


Take on the World

by niamhlouisew



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Avengers Family, Avengers don't like Spider-Man, Crime Fighting, Dark Peter Parker, Dead Aunt May, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Loves Peter Parker, Forgiveness, Gen, Homeless Peter Parker, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Insecure Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Precious Peter Parker, Protective Natasha Romanov, Protective Steve Rogers, Protective Tony Stark, Protective Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Vigilante Peter Parker, Wanda Maximoff is A Good Big Sister, Whump, a lot of hurt and angst im sorry, bad language, like really though she's amazing to Peter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2019-09-12 01:35:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 27,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niamhlouisew/pseuds/niamhlouisew
Summary: Peter Parker is homeless. After the death of his last remaining family member, his Aunt, he finds himself living on the streets. The only thing worth living for is his alter-ego, Spider-Man. As Spider-Man, Peter can be brave. He can stop bad things happening. He can be witty, funny, sarcastic. He can be okay. When he's Spider-Man, he doesn't have to think about how pathetic or useless his life is.Spider-Man is a vigilante, and the Avengers don't like that. Soon they decide to try and catch him to question him. What happens when they find the broken, malnourished fifteen year old underneath the mask?ORPeter is broken and severely depressed. He thinks life is no longer worth living. He needs a family. Soon enough, the Avengers become that for him.(including a SI field-trip, Peter getting kidnapped, Peter being homeless, all the good stuff into one fan fiction) ;)





	1. just say the word

It was a bitter, rainy evening in Queens where Peter Parker was roaming the streets trying to find some sort of edible food. He didn’t like to appear so desperate, however the teen hadn’t eaten in 3 days and his stomach felt as though it was ripping into itself – his super-fast metabolism didn’t help either. The excruciating coldness of December also didn’t help his slowly-but-surely weakening body feel much stronger. _Spiders can’t thermoregulate_ , Peter bitterly noted to himself as he kicked an empty beer can over.

The streets were relatively empty as the teen stumbled around, looking under benches and even in trashcans for some sort of nourishment. The few people that were out this early threw him disgusted glances and ‘tsk’ed at his actions, before avoiding his path. He took no notice however, his only focus being on the increasing pain that flooded his body and how much he wanted – no, needed – it to stop.

This morning though, unlike all the others, there seemed to be somebody watching over him as he found an untouched red apple on a lone table, as well as a half-full bottle of water in a nearby trashcan. To most, the thought of drinking out of a stranger’s water bottle which was dumped in a literal bin, would be most revolting. However, desperate times called for desperate measures and the water had yet to freeze meaning it must be somewhat fresh. Albeit, the apple would barely do anything to satisfy his aching hunger, however at least it was _something_.

Peter sat down on a bench, biting into the apple. It was sweet and juicy. And _fresh_. He couldn’t believe his luck and smiled softly to himself. _Small victories, right?_ His mood soon soured once more as he felt droplets of icy cold rain fall onto his already freezing hands. Standing up, he sighed and threw his now finished apple into a nearby bin. Then, grabbing the water – which he refused to drink unless absolutely necessary – he started his walk to his ‘home’ (which was really just a small abandoned storage box in the middle of a slightly shady looking alleyway).

He was halfway there, which by that point the light raindrops had turned into a full downpour, when he’d heard a woman scream in the distance. Instantly, Peter ran in the direction of the sound, dropping his water and found himself in a small park. He immediately spotted an older woman looking absolutely terrified as a man held a gun to – presumably – her daughter’s head.

“Please! I promise I don’t have anything! Please let her go!” The woman cried, inching closer to the attacker. He however noticed this and in response stepped back, the little girl still in his grasp.

“Bullshit. I know what you rich fuckers look like, with your fancy clothes and expensive handbags. Hell, I have no doubts that even this annoying little bitch has a fucking designer coat on. Now give me your money or its lights out for her.” He sneered, pressing the gun deeper into the sobbing girls’ temple. She was shaking, her hair drenched, and her face plastered in undeniable fear. The sight broke Peter’s heart as a burst of rage filled his entire being.

No one had noticed Peter’s presence yet.  
“Using a literal child to get money? That’s low dude.”

The attacker jumped and turned quickly to look at Peter, his grasp still tight on the girl. Her mother too looked at him, a now hopeful yet still distrusting look in her eye. Peter quickly glanced at her. _Help us_ , she mouthed at him.

“And who the hell do you think you are, punk? Get outta here kid before I decide to change my target.” The dude growled.

“Did you just call me a punk? Seriously?” Peter responded humourlessly.

The attacker, who Peter had noticed was bald and had the lower half of his face covered with some sort of scarf, seemed to have lost his train of thought and lowered his hold around the little girl. This was more than enough for Peter to run at the guy and punch him square in the face, instantly knocking him out. Kicking him roughly to see if he was awake and realising, he was indeed unconscious, Peter let his tight body language relax slightly and looked over to the girl who was now sobbing in her mother’s arms. He slowly walked over to them, still keeping his distance to show he meant no harm.

“Are you guys okay?” He asked quietly, his brave persona now gone, replaced with his usual Peter Parker shyness.

The mother of the little girl stood up, and instantly forced Peter into a desperate hug. “Thank you. Thank you. Oh, thank you so much.” She cried into his neck. Peter was very uncomfortable with people touching him, never mind complete strangers, and went rigid in her embrace. She seemed to notice this and let him go to look at him, her eyes red with tears. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “There’s no need to thank me, ma’am.” He smiled slightly at her, before looking down at the little girl hiding behind her leg. She looked no older than seven and was bright red in the face due to her tears and the coldness of the air. Peter crouched down in front of her. “You okay?” He asked her softly. She sniffled and nodded, before whispering a small thank you to him. He smiled at her and stood back up.  
The woman nodded at him, her eyes full of emotion and quickly walked away, holding her daughters’ hand.

Sighing, Peter looked over at Baldy and walked over to him. Picking his arm up, he dragged him under a large tree to keep him somewhat protected from the rain, and quickly checked his pulse. When Peter was one hundred percent sure the man would be okay, he ran over to the nearest phone booth and used the only loose coins he had to phone the police and anonymously let them know of Baldy’s whereabouts. After all, Peter Parker has one strict rule he follows; no one dies on his watch. No matter what. It didn’t matter how evil someone was, he wouldn’t let them die.

The teen then started walking back to where he was originally headed. He quickly glanced at his fist, which was cut up and starting to bruise, and sighed. If he wasn’t literally starving and his body wasn’t freezing, the small injuries would’ve healed by now. _Oh well. I’ve had worse_ , he shrugged.

Peter reached the storage box and headed inside, blocking the door with wooden planks once he was in. Over his time of living there, he’d managed to salvage quite a few things off the streets to help him survive. Flat, dirty pillows which he used as a mattress. Peeling advanced science books, which he’d found behind the library and had already read a million times. A thin, torn blanket, which at least helped keep him slightly warmer during the night. A box of chalk, which he was very surprised to find unopened but took it anyway, which he used to write made up maths and science equations on the walls of the storage box when he got bored (which was a lot). He also had quite a few broken action figures and ripped teddy bears that children’s parents seemed to throw out quite often. Peter was always incredibly lonely, so he decided a while ago to start collecting as many toys as possible. Then at least he had someone to talk to other than himself.

Sometimes, though extremely rare, people on the streets pitied Peter and gave them what they could. Such as the kind elderly woman who gifted him a thick scarf, or the little boy who once gave him a plastic iron-man action figure, or the teenager who gave him one of his old schoolbags. _That_ one kind of confused Peter, but he accepted it gratefully anyway, and since then it had actually helped him a lot.

Peter sighed for the millionth time that day, looking around the small space. It was pitch black, however he could just about see thanks to his enhanced sight. He glanced over at his homemade spider-man suit which was folded up in the corner, but exhaustion took over his body quickly and instead of going out on his usual patrol, he decided to go to sleep for the night. Stumbling over to his ‘bed’, he lay down and was out like a light.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay! So that’s chapter one! I know it wasn’t very story based at all, however I wanted to introduce Peter and his life first before getting into the good stuff. Of course, in typical Peter fashion there was a little civilian saving but not much.  
> I hope you enjoyed, I have big plans for this story and can’t wait to dive deeper into it!  
> Also, peep the iron-man action figure, I just had to add tony in somewhere ;)


	2. we'll take on the world

Tony Stark was having a bad day. He and Pepper had a huge fight the night before, Steve was being extremely aggravating, he hadn’t slept for 52 hours (not that F.R.I.D.A.Y was counting), and his coffee machine had broken. Tony was in the middle of fixing it in his lab when F.R.I.D.A.Y’s voice made him jump.

“Boss, Mr. Rogers is asking for your presence upstairs.” The AI’s smooth voice addressed him.

Tony scoffed and rolled his eyes. He _really_ couldn’t be bothered with Steve, or any of the Avengers in that matter today. “Tell him to fuck off.”

“Boss, I refuse to say that. He has also just told me to inform you that it’s urgent.” F.R.I.D.A.Y responded.

Tony slammed his fist on the table and stood up, stretching his arms above him. They made a satisfying _pop_ as he shook them out. He sighed deeply. “This better be damn important.” Walking over to the elevator, he asked his AI to take him to the main living department, where all of the Avengers, including himself, lived. Walking into the kitchen, he flicked the kettle on and began making himself a cup of coffee, considering his coffee machine was only half-way fixed. After standing for a few minutes waiting for the water to boil, Tony heard a multitude of footsteps walk behind him. Surely enough, he turned around and saw all of the Avengers stood there, with less than amused looks plastered on all of their faces. Tony smirked, taking in the sight. “Yes?” He asked them, since none of them seemed as though they were going to talk. It was Steve who replied first, because _of course it was._

“Tony. Can’t making coffee wait for once?” He asked, his eyes hard. _Jeez, someone is salty this morning._

“Actually Cap, it can’t. Coffee can never wait.” Tony replied, turning back to finish making the cup of deliciousness. He turned back to them, coffee in hand. “Now, is there a reason you decided to annoy me this morning or can I leave?”

Natasha stepped forward, arms crossed. “Tony, come look at the news.” She turned and walked away, everyone else following. Tony sipped his coffee and sighed, before walking towards them. He stepped into the living space and looked at the TV. There was a news station on, talking about Spider-Man and his ‘heroic’ actions. The report mentioned how the menace had saved a bus of school children from falling to their deaths by _lifting up the bus_ before it fell off a cliff. He raised an eyebrow before looking back over to the group stood beside him. “Why am I watching this?”

“We need to find this guy, Tony. He could be dangerous.” Steve replied to him, gesturing to the now paused image of Spider-Man _holding a bus._

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand. Sure, he’s annoying and has a ridiculously bad fashion sense, but dangerous?” Tony was actually quite shocked. This dude, Spider-Man, had literally saved a bus full of school kids from dying. And _Captain America_ wanted to stop him. Mr. Righteousness himself wanted to stop him. Natasha spoke up once again.

“Yes. Dangerous, Tony. We don’t have a clue who this guy is, or the mental state he is in. All we know is that he is ridiculously strong. And enhanced. Sure, he’s doing good deeds for the time being, but how long before he snaps and decides to use his power for the worse? He could hurt – no, kill – a lot of people, easily.” The rest of the group seemed to agree with her, nodding their heads and standing tense. All, but Bruce, who was looking down at the ground and wasn’t reacting at all.

Sam then spoke. “I agree. I didn’t even know about the guy until a few days ago where I saw a video of him literally stopping a train from crashing. The dude is clearly strong, almost as strong as Cap it seems. Now imagine that in the wrong hands, Tony.”

Tony hummed in response. He already had all these thoughts. He just hadn’t spoke about it to the others yet. Of course he knew about Spider-Man. How could he not notice a ridiculously strong dude wearing a onesie swing about New York? He didn’t put any actual effort into looking him up, but he knew that he was powerful and apparently very annoying. This rang alarm bells, yes, however he just thought the guy was a menace, and never thought about how he could be dangerous. Because, of course he could. He just hadn’t showed any signs of that yet. Still, it was a risk, and he found himself agreeing with those around him.

“You’re right. For all we know this guy could get bored one day and become the next Deadpool. Let’s not have that.”

Steve smiled at him. Natasha just nodded her head, determination in her eyes. Sam uncrossed his arms and sat on the couch. “And besides, it must be annoying the hell out of Tasha that we don’t know his identity. It sure is bugging me.” Tony added.

Natasha pursed her lips. “As much as I hate to admit it, yes. It’s frustrating as shit.” She seemed to ignore the ‘language’ that Steve muttered, and continued. “I’ve been looking into the guy for days and can’t find a single lead. How is that even possible? Usually I have people figured out in mere minutes.” She grunted.

“Is this really _that_ important? The guy hasn’t done anything wrong.” Came a small voice. They all turned to look at Bruce, who sighed quietly and met each of their gaze. Rhodey stepped out then and stood beside him, nodding his head. “Hm. I kind of agree with Doc here. Haven’t we got better things to do than track a random guy in Queens?”

“Nope.” Tony said. “For once, we actually haven’t.”

Bruce sighed and walked away, most likely to his lab. Sam watched him leave before shrugging his shoulders and changing the TV station to watch Friends. The rest of the group scattered then, with Wanda and Vision going to sit with Sam on the couch. Rhodey just sighed and walked into the kitchen. Steve followed after to make breakfast for everybody. Clint seemed to already be in the vents, much to Tony’s amusement. Natasha turned to Tony.

“So, what’s the plan?” She asked, her eyebrow raised.

“He seems to find trouble pretty easily. I say we just wait for his next public appearance, get him, and bring him back here for questioning.”

Natasha nodded. After all, she hated not knowing who this son of a bitch was. She wasn’t one for being in the dark about somebody. And it’s not like he’d be particularly hard to catch. Not with all the Avengers against just him.

 

Would it?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! So as you can probably tell, this is my first fan-fiction that I've ever wrote. So please try to ignore the annoying mistakes I have no doubt made. I promise I'll improve! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Next chapter will most likely be out tonight anyway, if not tomorrow!


	3. just say you're hurt

Peter slept for two full days. His body was slowly shutting down, and no matter how much rest he got it just wasn’t enough. He awoke suddenly, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. It had been a while since he’d had the nightmares, and almost instantly Peter knew the events of the gunman in the park had triggered them. The gun, the look of terror on the little girl’s face. It all reminded him too much of _him. Uncle Ben._ And when he thought of Uncle Ben, it wasn’t long before he thought about Aunt May.

 

Shaking his head, Peter stood up and immediately cringed at the pain in his back. Sleeping on the floor of a cold storage box was never comfortable, never mind for two days straight. He walked over to the metal door and moved the planks of wood leaning against it before pushing it open. Bright, winter sunlight poured in and Peter struggled to open his eyes. _Too bright._ Still, the fresh air was nice, and soon Peter got used to the brightness of outside. It was surprisingly sunny, and the morning air immediately cooled Peter down. It was refreshing and helped put the dark images of his previous nightmare to the back of his mind.

 

After standing for a few minutes letting the winter breeze cool him down, Peter walked back into the storage-box and quickly got changed into his Spider-Man suit. He felt extremely guilty about sleeping for so long, knowing he could’ve and should’ve been out on patrol instead. Peter himself wasn’t a very useful person and in his opinion, didn’t have much of a purpose. But Spider-Man? He helped people. He _saved_ people. Spider-Man gave Peter a reason to get up in the morning. Without him, he most likely would’ve stopped doing that years ago. Then again, without Spider-Man, Peter probably would’ve died a few weeks after becoming homeless. _Not that anyone would’ve noticed or cared._ He thought to himself as he double checked his web shooters, which he noted were running low on web fluid. Making web fluid was extremely difficult, considering the fact he was homeless and had absolutely no money. The only reason he was able to do it was because he had saved a scientist’s son from getting hit by a car, and the guy said he could use his lab every few weeks to do what he needed to do. Thankfully for Peter, he asked no questions and had no interest in finding out Peter’s identity. However, he knew he’d have to stop using the lab soon as the scientist had told him he was moving away – which meant trouble for Peter. No webshooters? No Spider-Man. Well, of course he could still fight, he still had his enhanced senses and could quite easily climb up walls however the only reason he got to fight so many crimes were with the help of his webshooters.

 

Happy – well as happy as he could be – with his appearance, Peter stepped outside and closed the storage box behind him. Then, making sure no one was around to see him, he quickly climbed up a wall of the alleyway he was in and stood on top of a building, taking in his sights and surroundings. He loved being so high up, it made him feel as though he was quite literally on top of the world. Peter wasn’t sure what time it was, however considering the amount of people wandering the streets and the children in the park, it seemed to be late morning/early afternoon on a weekend.

 

It wasn’t long before Peter’s enhanced ears heard the sound of a distant yell followed by a large crash. _Here we go._ Jumping off of the tall roof, Peter let himself fall for as long as possible, before reaching out and catching a web on a lamppost. Then, he was off, swinging in the direction of the noise. Soon enough, he arrived at the scene, finding a large panicked crowd surrounding an apartment which was on fire. Thick, black smoke came flooding out the windows, and Peter could see the angry amber flames trying to swallow everything inside. Quickly, Peter flipped on to the pavement just outside the scene where a woman was frantically screaming. He ran over to her.

 

“Miss? Miss is there anybody trapped inside? Miss can you hear me?” Peter yelled at her, as the noise around him was deafening. She turned quickly to face him, her eyes wide and hands shaking.

 

“My baby! My baby is inside! Please help him please, please God please!” She cut off, falling to her knees and sobbing on the floor, clearly traumatised. Peter didn’t let himself waste any more time. He lowered himself to her level. “Where is he? What floor?” He could only just hear her sob that the baby was on the second floor before shooting a web to the nearest window on the second floor and speeding inside.

 

Immediately, the heat of the fire was so intense Peter found himself dizzying, and then the smoke was filling his lungs. Coughing, he ran to the nearest door and tried to listen for any sounds that could belong to a baby. Surely enough there was the ear-splitting scream of a child, the type of cry that breaks your heart, and Peter knew where the baby was. Kicking down a door, Peter instantly found not a baby, but a small child curled up in the corner of the room. He couldn’t have been over the age of four and was coughing heavily. Peter ran up to him and crouched down. “Hey bud, I’m here to save you! Can you hear me buddy?” Peter asked him softly, but loud enough so the kid could hear him. Peter knew they didn’t have much time, but he knew better than just to grab him and potentially terrify him even more.

 

The boy looked up at him, wild fear in his eyes as he flinched away. Peter’s heart broke at the sight but inched closer. “I’m not here to hurt you, I want to take you back to your mom. Can I do that?” The boy shook his head, and it then occurred to Peter that approaching the clearly petrified boy in his Spider-Man mask may not have been the best idea. He swiftly took his mask off, nervously scrunching it up in his hands. This seemed to relax the kid immensely, realising Peter was indeed not a monster and also not _that_ much older than him. Peter took the boy’s hand, smiling slightly when he gripped on to Peter’s. “I’m going to pick you up okay? Just keep your eyes closed and I’ll get you back to your mom.” Peter whispered to him. The boy just nodded, closing his eyes. Quickly, Peter stuffed his mask back on and picked the boy up, making sure to hold his head into his chest to make sure he didn’t inhale anymore smoke. Then, he ran towards the window he came through, which was becoming increasingly ingulfed in flames and jumped through it, hissing in pain as his feet caught the fire. Then, shooting a web with one hand, he dropped down to the ground and sprinted towards the boy’s mother who was still on the ground. Hearing Peter’s footsteps, she jumped up and noticed the boy in his arms. She instantly broke into more tears and lifted him out of Peter’s arms into her own. She sobbed into his chest as a paramedic ran over and guided them both to an ambulance. The woman turned back and whispered a desperate, “thank you for saving my boy, you’re an angel” before jumping into the ambulance as it sped off.

 

Peter sighed in relief. For a few moments, he didn’t think he’d get to the boy on time. But he did. And it made the pain he was in worth it. Not wanting to bring any more attention to himself, especially in his weakened state, he sneaked around the crowd and swung away from the scene. After swinging through the streets of Queens for a few minutes, he dropped down onto the roof of a closed restaurant and sat down. His leg was extremely burned, and since he hadn’t eaten for two days his healing factor was agonisingly slow. His head was also extremely painful due to the mix of his malnourishment and the smoke that had clouded his vision only minutes prior.

 

Peter only managed to rest for a few sacred moments before his spidey sense suddenly started screaming at him to move. (A/N: ok can we appreciate that sibilance though?) Quickly Peter leapt into the air, flipping backwards and landing behind whoever had crept up on him. And _boy, was he shocked._ Standing there was no other than ALL of the Avengers – well, besides Dr. Banner and Thor – in their full battle gear. Maybe it was the fact that Peter was extremely malnourished, or maybe it was just pure insanity, but looking at all of them stood in front of him made Peter chuckle. No, not just chuckle, but full on psychotic laughter. Needless to say, the group stood in front of him were not amused. Black Widow was staring at him with her eyes squinted, clearly ready for a fight. Captain America tightened his grip on his shield. Hawkeye had his bow and arrows prepared to shoot, his eyebrows raised. Scarlet Witch and Vision stayed close together, eyeing Peter suspiciously. Falcon looked annoyed, his arms crossed and lips in a tight line. War Machine simply looked amused. And then stood directly in the centre of them all, was Iron Man, who due to his suit wasn’t very easy to read. However, he had his arm raised at Peter, clearly ready to blast him if need be.

 

Peter took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. “I’m sorry, its just - ” He breathed before bursting into another fit of laughter. He then looked back up as his laughter died down, but still held the smirk that was on his face. “I must have done something REALLY bad to get the whole of the Avengers after me.” Peter himself didn’t know why he found the situation so funny. Maybe it was to hide the creeping nervousness that he was also feeling; after all he wasn’t exactly in the best state to fight off the damn _Avengers_ and had absolutely no idea why they’d came after him in the first place. His thoughts were interrupted when once again his spidey sense forced him to dodge to the side as an arrow came flying towards his head. He looked over at Hawkeye and crossed his arms. “Shooting at me when I wasn’t ready? Not cool dude.” Hawkeye immediately looked shocked and turned towards Black Widow. “How? How did he dodge that? He wasn’t even _looking!_ ” She just hummed in response, not taking her eyes off Peter. Captain America stepped forward. “We want to take you in for questioning. You can either be compliant and make this a whole lot easier for yourself, or you can get hurt.” _Questioning? Why?_ Peter was instantly on edge, no longer finding any humour in this situation. He didn’t know why they wanted to question him, however he _really_ didn’t like it. Questioning would no doubt lead to his identity being revealed and he couldn’t allow them to find out that. Spider-Man was all he had left, and there was no chance in hell he would let that be taken away from him. Peter felt his heart speed up as he realised the chances of beating the Avengers in a fight, and he wasn’t feeling particularly confident in his odds.

 

Peter sighed before looking at Captain America. “Um, Mr. Captain America, Sir, I’d really rather not.” _Didn’t they have anything better to do than interrogate him?_ Captain America raised his eyebrows and started to say something before being cut off by none other than Tony Stark – Iron Man. “That wasn’t a question. We’re taking you in for questioning.” Peter’s heart lurched. _What had he done?_ The bravery he felt as Spider-Man was quickly dwindling. He then realised he had been staring at Tony for over a minute and he started panicking, thinking of how to respond in a way that wouldn’t cause a fight. “You look different in real life. Taller. Then again, I’ve only seen you on news stations, oh and I also have this action figure of you that a kid gave me once because I saved his cat even though I told him It was fine but he insisted because he said he had a newer version of you so it didn’t bother him so I took it, not that I imagined you’d be the same height as an action figure I just thought you’d be shorter, but then again maybe your suit adds to your height? Which by the way, your suit looks awesome in real life, I’ve always wondered what it was made of, cause obviously its not _actual_ iron which I’ve got to admit confused me when I was younger…” He trailed off, now very much aware of the confused eyes that were staring at him. _Of course, he’d start rambling when the whole damn Avengers were there to witness it._ Rambling had always been something that happened whenever he was nervous. He never thought before he spoke, his brain hardly ever caught up to what he was saying until after he’d said it.

 

There was a minute of silence, no one really knowing what to say or do. This of course caused Peter’s anxiety to sky-rocket. _I have to get out of here while I’ve got the chance._ He edged closer to the side of the rooftop. “So, this has been fun and all but I’m pretty sure there’s an old lady needing help to cross the road somewhere… I’m just gonna…” He turned away and jumped off of the building, ready to swing away. However, his plans were ruined as he was now _floating in mid-air. What?_ The mysterious force that was holding him up continued to turn him around and set him back down on the rooftop, where the Scarlet Witch’ hands were glowing. _You’ve got to be freaking kidding me._ Her actions seemed to jolt all of the Avenger’s awake as they were now running towards him, ready to attack. Peter quickly dodged what seemed like hundreds of arrows and flipped up in the air, landing behind Hawkeye. He shot a web at him tying his legs together and forcing him to fall face down on the floor. “I’m sorry but you’re being extremely inconvenient for me right now!” Peter shouted at him as he continued to dodge oncoming hits. His spidey sense screamed at him to _move_ as he spun around and came face to face with a familiar shield. He was too late however as it struck him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him. _Okay, that hurt._ Peter didn’t have much time to sit around so he jumped back up, cringing at the pain and trying to ignore the increasing ache that was growing in his temples. “Mr. Captain America, Sir, that wasn’t very nice.” Peter’s vision was clouding as result of the amount of pain he was in and his lack of food, yet he still had the energy to talk during fights. He really amazed himself sometimes. Peter could faintly hear the voice of Iron Man talking to Scarlet Witch and could only make out the words “taking too long”, and “annoying” before suddenly his vision went black as he slipped into darkness.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sorry this chapter is terrible. I hate the way it ends and how rushed it feels, but I am currently very sleep deprived. The next chapter will be much better I promise. I’m trying to do daily updates but sometimes it’ll be every other day!
> 
> Still, I hope you’re enjoying it so far. Thank you SO much for all the love, I didn’t expect to get so much in just one day! Like, 120 kudos in one day? That’s insane! THANK YOU!


	4. we'll face the worst

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you read this chapter, I want to apologise for how long it took me to upload it. I have literally just finished writing it this minute, because for some reason it took me three full days to finish it. I don't know why this specific one was so hard for me to write, everything just seemed to go wrong and I kept putting off posting it. But anyway here it is. It isn't the best it could be, however I hope y'all enjoy it!
> 
> ALSO, I HAVE to mention the Avengers 4 trailer! It made me cry for a whole damn day and now I can't stop thinking about theories of what happens. Poor Tony :(

The first thing Peter noticed when he’d woken up was the paralysing tingling sensation in the back of his neck. The instincts that were almost screaming at him to _move, to do anything at all._ And at first, this confused him immensely. Because there was _also_ a voice in his head telling him to stay perfectly still, to pretend to still be asleep. _But why?_ Questioning himself seemed to trigger memories of the events that had unfolded previously, and he was instantly wide awake. _The Avengers. The fight. Questioning. Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit! Fuck!_ His body had automatically tensed but relaxed slightly at the realisation he still had his mask on. They didn’t unmask him. They don’t know his identity. For now, at least.

 

Listening to his surroundings, Peter noted that he was alone. He couldn’t hear _anything._ Which was slightly disconcerting to him, considering he was so used to picking up on even the slightest of noises from miles away. Still, it meant he was free to move. Looking around for the first time, he realised he was laying down on the floor of a very much empty room. Not only was the room empty, but entirely blank too. White walls, grey floors, a metal door and a singular window which took up most of the wall. Peter instantly sprinted towards it, clawing at it to open. Of course, it didn’t budge. _That would be too easy,_ he thought to himself bitterly. His sudden movements caught up to him as he winced in pain. Lifting the top of his suit up, he noted an ugly purple and black bruise covering his abdomen. _Thanks for that Captain._ Thinking about his stomach made it roar in hunger, and Peter’s vision clouded momentarily. When did he last eat? How long has he even been in here? It couldn’t have been _too_ long considering the bruise hadn’t started to heal, however his healing factor wasn’t very reliable lately, so he knew better than to rely on just that alone. Honestly, he just wanted to go home. Not that he could call his storage box a _home,_ but it was safe and familiar. He was soon dragged out of his thoughts when a voice made him _literally_ leap into the air. He jumped on to the roof and crawled to the corner, so he was able to face whoever had spoken to him. However, no one was there. _What? I swear I heard a –_

“I said, I see you have awoken. I have notified Boss.” The feminine voice said again.

 

“H-hello? Who? Who’s there? Are you… are you invisible?” Fear and panic consumed Peter’s body at the thought of an invisible person being in the room with him. He looked around wildly, waiting for some sort of movement. Of course, none came, and Peter was slightly more prepared when the voice spoke again. _Was it laughing at him?_

“I am F.R.I.D.A.Y, Boss’ Artificial Intelligence. I am the voice of the compound and have no physical body.”

 

Friday? Like the day? Hearing this made Peter’s inner nerd freak out. That was _so cool. It was a literal voice in the walls._ But he soon caught up to what she had said. She? Could he even call it a she? Ignoring that thought, Peter concentrated on the more important one running through his head. _I have notified Boss._ That could only mean Tony Stark, right? Peter’s question was soon answered as the door to the room suddenly opened, revealing none other than Tony Stark himself. Following him were Captain America, Black Widow and… _is that Bruce Banner?_ Okay, now Peter’s inner nerd was _really_ freaking out, however he knew this probably wasn’t a good time. The group were in normal clothes now, clearly no longer seeing Peter as a threat. He didn’t blame them. After all, he had gone down pretty easily. _Yeah, because you’re pathetic,_ the voice in his head sneered at him. Ignoring that, he instead focused on the people standing in front of him. Bruce was looking up at him, his lips in a frown and shame in his eyes. Natasha and Steve stood close together, looking equally confused at Peter’s position, with Natasha still looking terrifying as ever. Tony just looked bored. And maybe amused. Peter realised he was in fact, still on the ceiling, and quickly dropped down. He stayed close to the corner though, not wanting to be left unprepared for any attacks which may occur.

 

The Avengers – well, half of them at least – stepped into the room, shutting the door behind them. Surprisingly, it was Bruce who spoke first. “Are you hurt?” He asked almost timidly. Peter always loved Bruce Banner. He was an utter genius. Every weekend Peter would go to the local library just to read the Doctors’ books on gamma radiation. Sure, he didn’t understand _all_ of it, but he didn’t need to. He learned so much from him, and the amount of respect he had for the guy was immeasurable. And sure, the _other guy_ was cool too. But not as cool as Bruce Banner himself.

 

Peter didn’t really know what to do. Because _yes,_ he was hurt. But he’d also had much, _much_ worse. And he was also very unsure of how to act and respond to the group. He knew that it’d be quite stupid to lie to them, considering he was a homeless, malnourished fifteen-year-old under the mask and _definitely_ couldn’t put up a good fight in his current state. But at the same time, he felt the strong urge to defend himself, defend Spider-Man, and not tell them anything at all. With all these thoughts flooding his mind, he merely shrugged in response to Bruce’s question.

 

“You don’t know if you’re hurt?” Came the voice of Tony Stark, his eyebrows raised and practically dripping in patronisation. At that moment, Peter had the sudden urge to punch him. However, he knew that wouldn’t make himself appear any better, and pushed the thought away. He stayed quiet, instead watching the group for any behaviour that could be warning signals for an attack. It was quite sad actually, being so wary of what had been known to him as ‘Earth’s mightiest hero’s’. His eyes fleeted to Steve Rogers, watching as the Captain stepped closer to him. “Look, we aren’t gonna hurt you. We just need to ask a few questions.” Peter couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his lips then, “What, and you expect me to believe that after I wake up and find out I’ve been kidnapped?” _Stop talking Peter. Don’t make this any worse for yourself than it has to be, idiot._

“Okay, that’s enough talking for now. You’re going to follow us into the room down the hallway, where I and the rest of the team will ask you a few questions. It’s in your best interest to tell the truth,” Tony shrugged before continuing, “besides, if you have good motives and nothing to hide then it should be over before you know it.” Peter listened carefully. He had two options; either he complied with instructions or he didn’t. Only one resulted in the least amount of pain for him, and at this point he wasn’t sure his body would physically be able to hold itself up if he got _even more_ injured. Peter knew better than to ignore his body’s warning signs and nodded his head in defeat. “Fine.” He could tell those standing in front of him were suspicious at his easy answer, clearly expecting more of a fight. He wished he had it in him to put up some sort of fight. But physically, he was aching, and mentally he was exhausted.

 

Peter nervously walked up to the group, his hands up by his head to prove his compliancy. He wasn’t going to make a run for it, no matter how much he wanted to. Tony Stark nodded and walked out the room first, with Steve and Natasha walking at either side of Peter. Bruce followed loosely behind, his head down. They walked down a long hallway, still just as bright and plain as the room Peter had been in minutes before. The whole time his spider sense was uncomfortably humming at him, making him very aware of the scrutinising stares Natasha and Steve were sending him. Peter wondered just how many hallways this building has.

 

After a few minutes, they came to stop outside a set of doors. Tony then put his hand on a scanner, which glowed in recognition before the doors slid open. Peter had never wanted to roll his eyes so much. Together they walked in the room and were met with the rest of the Avengers, all sat down on different couches. Peter looked around and found they were in some sort of common room. The lighting was warm, there was a large TV playing a rerun of ‘Friends’ quietly, and everybody was laughing. It was nice. Peter almost forgot why he was there in the first place as he took in the light atmosphere. Of course, all of that changed as soon as they stepped into the room. Friends was turned off, and now everybody was standing up. The intensity of their stares was enough for Peter’s hair on the back of his neck to stand up. He looked down nervously. Tony clearly wasn’t a fan of the silence and soon spoke up, “Right. Let’s get this over with. We’ll just ask you some questions, which you will answer, and then you’ll be free to go.” _For now,_ Peter could practically hear the words which remained unspoken. There was no way the Avengers would just let him walk away after kidnapping and questioning him.

 

He nodded once, which seemed to be enough for Steve to start the questions going.

 

“You go by the name of Spider-Man, yes?” Peter nodded. “Okay, so what’s the story behind that? Are you actually a spider or just took inspiration from Nat?” _Is he being serious?_ Peter didn’t know whether he wanted to laugh or punch the stupidity out of Steve’s head. He realised he had to answer and spoke quickly. “Um, no. I- I’m not technically a spider. I mean, part spider, yes. Which is where the name came from. Not the most creative idea I admit. N-No offense Ms. Black Widow Natasha Romanoff, Ma’am, you are very inspiring, and I-I didn’t even think that there was already another arachnid name out there I mean but what else could I have called myself but still I mean I kinda just thought it and went with it but…” _You’re rambling again, idiot._ Embarrassment filled his body, making his face as red on the inside of his mask it was on the outside. He was thankful no one could see him at that moment.

Steve raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth to talk before he was interrupted by Clint. “You managed to dodge all of my arrows,” Peter could hear the slight anger in his voice and gulped, “every single one of them. Even when you didn’t see them coming. How did you do that?” _Well shit,_ he sighed. “I… I have this sense,” everybody’s eyebrows shot up at this, their blank expressions changing to ones of curiosity, “I get this _feeling_ whenever something bad is about to happen. And my body just listens to it, even when I don’t mean for it to. Most of the time I don’t realise that I’m dodging something until the moments over. I call it my spider sense, because it’s kinda like how a spider always seems to know when something is trying to stamp on it and runs away at the last second before it’s crushed.” Peter could tell everybody was extremely intrigued by this, with Steve looking at him intently before muttering “interesting” to himself.

 

“The webs. Do they come out of you?” Tony asked. Peter was disgusted at the idea. “What? No! How would? I mean where would the web even? That would be so gross.” Tony narrowed his eyes which made Peter decide he never wanted to talk again. “So where _do_ they come from then?” Tony asked. Peter awkwardly held up his wrists. “Webshooters. I-I made them.” “Yourself?” He nodded. To his surprise, Tony Stark actually looked _impressed. Huh._

 

“How long have you been Spider-Man for?” Natasha asked. Peter hummed in thought before answering. “Not long. About two years.” He kept his answer short, knowing they would ask more questions about Peter being Spider-Man. It’s not like he could tell them about the field-trip, because then they would figure out his age. And that couldn’t happen. She raised her eyebrows at this, as did pretty much everybody else.

 

Sam crossed his arms, speaking for the first time. “How old are you then?” _Damn damn damn, what do I say to that?_ “I-I don’t want to answer that.” Immediately the atmosphere in the room thickened. Peter knew he was specifically told to answer any and all questions, and so far, he had. But this was one he couldn’t, for obvious reasons.  

 

Peter saw Natasha and Steve glance at each other, having a secret conversation only they could understand. Tony cleared his throat. “What do you mean, you can’t answer that?” Peter swallowed before answering. “I-I just mean… I’m not prepared to answer personal questions. A secret identity is secret for a reason, you know.” A small laugh came from the back of the room, and Peter turned to see Wanda looking curiously at him. She seemed to find him quite amusing, and Peter didn’t know whether he liked that or not. So far, she hadn’t asked him anything, with Steve, Tony and Natasha being the main interrogators. No one else seemed to find Peter’s answer amusing however as Steve raised his eyebrow. “Secret identities aren’t a thing here. You’re a vigilante, and we need to know you pose no threat to society. Did you really think we wouldn’t want to know who you are under the mask?” Peter’s heart sped up, fear seeping into his bones. His nerves didn’t go unnoticed as Bruce frowned. “It’s okay, we won’t tell anyone who you are. We just need to know.” He told Peter in a soft voice. As much as Peter appreciated Bruce’s kind tone, it done absolutely nothing to resolve the panic growing inside him. _You’ll get locked up. You’re a murderer. Everyone you love dies. They’ll take Spider-Man away from you._ Peter could no longer think straight and instinctively ran towards the closest window. Of course, it was locked, and Peter grew more and more panicked. His attempted escape instantly had everyone running towards him, his spidey sense going crazy. Without thinking, Peter swiftly turned around and threw a punch at whoever was about to attack him, his only thought being to escape. However, he soon realised what he’d done as he looked down at Steve Rogers, who was now laying on the floor as a result of Peter’s punch. His face was one of shock, clearly not expecting Peter to be _that_ strong. The rest of the Avengers looked the same, all seemingly baffled at the fact Spider-Man just nearly knocked out Captain America. “Oh my god I’m so sorry Mr. Captain Rogers Sir I didn’t even think I-I just want to go home I can’t be in this room anymore I can’t-” Peter could feel a panic attack coming on as he started hyperventilating. _I can’t breathe._ “You need to breathe. Close your eyes and focus on your heartbeat.” _Is Tony Stark helping me with a panic attack?_ It didn’t matter however as Peter’s breathing only worsened. His mask wasn’t helping him at all and he started to feel extremely claustrophobic. Then, his vision blurred with hot tears as he heard a yell for someone to take off his mask. _No no no no no._

The last thing Peter felt before he passed out was his mask being pulled off, cold air hitting his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking. Another cliffhanger? Really? It even ends the same way as last chapter!  
> I know. Im sorry jdsjhdakdjad I hate myself too. But I really didn't want the identity reveal to be in this chapter! I promise I won't take as long to post the next one. 
> 
> By the way, thank you SO MUCH for 300+ kudos. You're all amazing. And your comments melt my heart. Thank you again. I love you all.


	5. I can see the pain in your eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to make the timeline clear: Peter got his powers when he was thirteen, Uncle Ben got murdered in front him a few weeks after. Aunt May died a year later when he was fourteen. He has been homeless for a year, which brings us up to the current time, where he is fifteen :)

Tony Stark rarely ever got surprised anymore. He had experienced pretty much everything life had to offer over his years of living, both good and bad. Sure, some things may make him question himself sometimes – though that in itself was very, _very_ rare – however he couldn’t say he had been thoroughly _surprised_ in a long time. It just came with the job, he had to be numb to a lot of things in order to maintain his image. He had perfected his poker face over the years and had learned that showing emotion was a sign of weakness.

 

However, the moment Tony Stark saw Spider-Man’s face under his mask, all of that logic was completely thrown out the window.

 

He and the rest of the Avengers were frozen in shock, surrounding Spider-Man’s now-unconscious form. No one said anything for minutes, however it seemed like an eternity before Bruce eventually broke the silence.

 

“He’s… he’s a… kid.” Sadness was evident in his voice but was soon replaced with anger. “He’s a _kid._ You all went after and hunted down a _child. You beat him up.”_

 

No one replied. No one knew what to say. How to react. All Tony could feel was dread and sorrow. He knew that Spider-Man was young, that was evident in how the guy spoke non-stop during fights, however Tony didn’t realise just _how_ young he was. He’d expected early to mid-twenties; however, the boy didn’t look a day over seventeen, younger even. Even Natasha, who was usually an expert at hiding her emotions, had went pale with shock. Clint had backed away, shaking his head. Wanda was covering her mouth, eyebrows furrowed. Vision was stood beside her, his arm around her. Sam was now muttering to himself, head bowed in his hands. Steve looked absolutely torn, his hands shaking. Rhodey just seemed sad. Everybody was in utter disbelief.

 

Tony looked over at the kid. _Spider-Man._ His face was pale, eyes closed. Tear tracks ran down his cheeks and his lips were parted slightly, cracked and chapped from the cold. His hair was in brown curls, hanging over his eyes slightly. He looked _so damn young._ He was breathing slowly, too slowly. Tony finally found his voice, the initial shock wearing off as his sensible head came back in full force.

 

“We need to get him to the med-bay. Now.” Tony demanded. “FRIDAY, Call Dr. Cho and get her up here. Tell her its urgent.”

 

“Right away Boss.” A few moments passed before FRIDAY spoke again. “Dr. Cho is on her way.”

 

Tony just nodded. Bruce then crouched down beside the kid and started checking his pulse. Shock once again took over his features as he muttered quietly to himself. A few moments passed before the face of Dr. Cho appeared, a small team behind her. She immediately noticed Spider-Man on the ground and soon he was being rolled out the room. The Avengers were once more alone together, minus Bruce who had followed Dr. Cho down to the med-bay. Steve stepped towards Tony, his face full of uncertainty, which was unnerving to see on the man who is usually always in control.

 

“What do we do?”

 

Tony opened his mouth to reply, however Natasha cut him off before he could.

 

“We talk to him. The poor boy is probably terrified. We need to apologise.” Her usually stoic face was now one of guilt and sadness. Tony knew Natasha loved kids, it was obvious from how she acted with Clint’s children.

 

Tony nodded, agreeing with her. His throat was dry as his brain tried to formulate a sentence. “I-I agree. But not straight away. He clearly needs some rest, let’s just wait for him to wake up and take it from there. We- we don’t know how he’ll react to us right now.”

 

They all nodded solemnly, each still in shock at the revelation Spider-Man is a teenager. A teenager that spends his days saving civilians, helping elderly ladies cross the road, retrieving scared kittens out of trees to their worried owners and pushing children out of the way of speeding cars. A teenager who does nothing but _help._ And the Avengers, ‘earths mightiest heroes’, chased said teenager, beat him to a pulp and then kidnapped him.

_Earths mightiest heroes, huh?_

 

 

**_ ONE YEAR AGO _ **

_“Pete! Come here please!”_

_Peter lazily rolled over in his bed, groaning at the sound of his aunt’s voice in the kitchen. Grabbing the pillow he was lying on and stuffing it over his face, he shut his eyes in a weak attempt of going back to sleep._

_“Peter! Don’t make me come in there.”_

_He ignored her once again, instead curling up into a ball underneath his duvet._

_It hadn’t even been two minutes before he heard his aunt’s footsteps near his room before she opened his door and sighed. “Peter Benjamin Parker. You have to get up hon, its half seven.”_

_Usually, the thought of being late to school made Peter jump up and hurriedly get ready, he always tried his best at keeping his attendance in check, knowing just how lucky he was to score the scholarship to Midtown High in the first place. However, he couldn’t care less at the moment. In fact, all he cared about was sleeping all day and pretending he didn’t exist._

_His aunt had other plans. Because of course she did._

_“Right, that’s it.”_

_A millisecond later, the warm duvet he was curling under was ripped away from him, cold air immediately replacing it. Peter groaned and sat up groggily, glaring at his aunt from sleepy eyes. “Really? That was cruel, aunt May. Really cruel.”_

_She just shook her head and continued to walk over to his window, opening the curtains and letting early morning light flood his room. Peter knew then he had no choice but to get up, and slowly swung his legs off his bed before standing up. His aunt walked over to him, a soft smile on her lips, and ruffled his hair before kissing his forehead._

_“Morning sleepy-head. Coffee is on the kitchen table, I’ll leave you to get ready. You haven’t got long.”_

_He smiled slightly at her as she walked back out the door. No matter how tired or grumpy he was, he couldn’t help but thank the heavens for blessing him with such an amazing aunt. He really didn’t know what he would do without her… he didn’t even like thinking about it._

_Sighting softly, Peter walked out his bedroom to the bathroom down the hall, locking the door once he was inside. Checking the mirror, he frowned at his appearance. His eyes, puffy and red, were accompanied with huge bags. His cheeks were swollen slightly, and his lips were chapped._

_Today was the one-year anniversary of his uncle Ben’s murder, and needless to say Peter had been up all night plagued by the memories of watching his beloved uncle die in front of his eyes. Whenever he started to nod off to sleep, the images of the life leaving his uncle’s eyes would immediately jolt him awake again. He didn’t sleep much that night._

_“Come on, Parker. Get yourself together.” He scolded his reflection, furrowing his brows as he turned towards the shower. He only had half an hour before he had to leave for school, however he knew only the hot water of a shower would tame his appearance at least somewhat._

_Once he was out the shower, his curly hair now smelling pleasantly of mint and vanilla (curtesy of his aunts’ favourite shampoo), he quickly brushed his teeth and wrapped a towel around his waist before walking back into his room. Then he quickly got dressed, throwing on some black jeans and a grey hoodie with some sort of science pun on it, before walking out into the kitchen._

_His aunt was leaning against the worktop, mug of tea in hand as she checked the newspaper. Peter picked up his mug of coffee and drank it fast, it was already nearly cold and he needed the energy today. His aunt then put down the newspaper she was reading, muttering something about the Avengers, before throwing a breakfast bar at Peter. He caught it easily and stuffed it into his pocket before putting his trainers on and grabbing his backpack. Walking over to his aunt, he gave her a quick peck on her cheek before jogging to the door. “See you tonight! Love you!” He called over his shoulder, running out the door and shutting it behind him. Thanks to his enhanced ears, he caught the small laugh of his aunt and the muttered “I love you too, Petey Pie.”_

_He actually smiled as he made his way to school, memories of Ben's laugh and May's smile flooding his brain, unknowing of the fact that was the last time he’d ever see or hear his aunt again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY THIS HAS TAKEN SO DAMN LONG TO POST.  
> I- I don't even have an excuse. I know I promised to release this chapter quick, but clearly I am a liar and untrustworthy of your faith in me. :( 
> 
> In all honesty, these few weeks have been... tough. Lets just say... illness sucks. Ive been in bed, unable to gather the motivation to do pretty much anything. But still, that isn't an excuse. I can't even say I have been trying to get this chapter out, because I haven't. I haven't been trying to do anything. Im so sorry. I saw all your lovely messages and they made me feel so guilty, so I finally got my ass into order and wrote this one literally right now. 
> 
> Thats why this chapter kinda sucks. I haven't re-read it, I haven't spent much time on it at all. But still, I hope you enjoyed the little bit of insight into Peter's life with May before everything bad happened to him. My heart breaks for him, and I kind of hate myself for making his life so shitty lmao but I promise things look up for him eventually. 
> 
> Anyway this is a long A/N, so I'll end it here. Thank you for all your wonderful messages, they make me smile every day. I hope you had an amazing Christmas (if you celebrate it). I won't promise that an update will come soon, but Ive already started writing it so hopefully it won't take as long as this did.
> 
> Love you all.


	6. oh believe me and I have tried

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: Death, anxiety, panic attacks, suicide (only briefly mentioned), depression, homelessness, grief. Its a dark one y'all. ENJOY!
> 
> This is just a backstory on how Peter ended up on the streets. It's quite sad. Poor Pete :( Poor Ned :(

Peter’s life hasn’t been all that great. Not awful, sure it _could_ be worse, however compared to most fifteen-year-olds, it was fair to say he had been through quite a lot. Life just… doesn’t seem to like him. May and Ben used to call it ‘Parker Luck’, which basically meant that if you had the last name Parker, you kind of got the short end of the stick in most scenarios. Peter used to laugh at that. Not anymore though, now that he’s realised just how horrible ‘Parker Luck’ can really be.

 

Still, Peter never let the bad luck bring him down. Not publicly at least. He liked looking at the positive things in life. Always finding something to be grateful for.

 

Like when he was 8 and sick with chicken pox, he was grateful for being able to drink Ben’s homemade soup every day, which was delicious.  

Or when he was 10, and broke his arm whilst climbing a tree, he was grateful for all of his working limbs and realised never to take them for granted again.

Or when he was bit by a spider on a school fieldtrip, which just so happened to be radioactive and made him the sickest he’s ever been in his life, he was grateful for the awesome spider powers that came with it (and the fact he no longer had to wear glasses.)

Or when his uncle Ben got shot and murdered right in front of him, he was grateful for his amazing aunt who managed to make his nightmares go away with her late-night cups of tea and warm hugs.

Or when his aunt worked double shifts and Peter had to go through his anxiety attacks alone, he was grateful for his best friend Ned and how he would always, always answer his phone to talk Peter down from one.

 

Yeah, Peter was good at making the most negative situations imaginable even slightly more bearable.

 

But then there were some situations that he just couldn’t, _couldn’t_ find light in. No matter how hard he tried.

 

Like when Flash caught Peter on a _very_ bad day and decided to make fun of his uncles’ death, spiralling Peter into the worst panic attack he’d ever experienced, (which said a lot, considering they had become a daily thing for him.)

Or when he failed to save a civilian from jumping in front of a train whilst out on patrol. Peter had nightmares about her for weeks, (he still does.)

Or when he had gotten into a fight with his aunt May over the phone, her yelling at him (for getting detention for punching Flash in the face resulting in her having to leave work early), and him yelling back at her telling her to leave him alone. It was the one-year anniversary of Ben’s death.

 

He was still on the phone with her when she had walked into a theft gone wrong on her way to pick up him.

 

He was still on the phone with her when the gunmen noticed her.

 

He was still on the phone with her when she got shot dead.

 

Since then, Peter could no longer find the light so easily.

 

Peter Parker broke that day. He was officially the last living member of his family. He was officially _alone._

 

He ran away.

 

He doesn’t know why he done it. He doesn’t know what he was thinking. _He wasn’t thinking._ All he does know, is that the moment Peter found out his aunt was dead, he ran home in complete shock and packed a bag. He only packed five things in said bag and ran away.

 

No one looked for him. No one, except Ned.

 

In retrospect, Peter should’ve been slightly offended that nobody looked for him. That authorities hadn’t even _tried_ to help him. But then again, who would look for him? The only family he had left was now dead. Sure, he felt bad about leaving Ned, however he knew that Ned would move on eventually. After all, Peter had been a terrible friend ever since his uncle died. Ned deserved better. Much better. During the first few months, Peter would hide in the shadows and watch Ned searching for him after school. He saw Ned beg police, neighbours, _anyone_ to help look for him. But let’s face it, nobody cared about the homeless orphaned teenager that ran away. It was only Ned. Every single day, Peter saw his best friend break down in tears after hours of searching for him. From a distance, Peter broke down with him. All he wanted was to run over to his best friend and hug him and cry with him. All he wanted was to hear his best friends’ stupid jokes and his rants about the avengers. All he wanted, in those moments, was for things to be how they were just months prior. But he couldn’t do it. Because Peter knew he was no longer the boy he was before. He was broken. The Peter he had become didn’t deserve to know Ned Leeds. Peter didn’t deserve anything. And he was terrified of something happening to Ned. After all, every person that Peter loved had died. _Parker Luck._

 

And one day, Ned stopped looking for Peter.

 

Peter would sometimes check up on him from a distance. To make sure he was okay. And over time, he was. Ned wasn’t the same as he was before, however he was getting better. Smiling more. Laughing. It was for the best. Peter knew that. He knew that by being alone, nobody would get hurt.

 

Peter started spending his days (and nights) as Spider-Man. Whenever he had to go out as Peter to find food or make his webs, he'd pull his hood over his head and make it quick. He couldn't risk anybody recognising him (which was unlikely, considering how everybody most likely had forgotten about him, but still). The rest of the time he was Spider-Man. When he was Spider-Man, everything bad in his life could be forgotten. Nobody knew who the masked hero was, which meant he could be anybody he wanted to be. Spider-Man was brave, smart, confident, kind. He didn’t let his past affect him. Spider-Man was everything that Peter Parker wasn’t.

 

Sure, living on the streets was tough. Food was scarce, and the cold weather was especially brutal. However, it meant that Peter Parker could be forgotten. Spider-Man could take over. And for the first time in a long time, Peter found happiness whilst being him.

 

Spider-Man was all Peter had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? Who are you and what have you done with the real author?  
> No but seriously, I felt really bad about uploading my last chapter so late. So here's another one. 
> 
> This one is just about how Peter ended up homeless and the cause of May's death. Its... sad. 
> 
> Here's hoping Pete finds happiness soon.
> 
> No promises though ;)


	7. I wont pretend to know what you've been through

_You could have saved him._

_You could have saved her._

_If you had died long ago, Ben and May would still be alive._

_Ned would be happy._

_The world would’ve been a better place._

_Everybody who loves you dies eventually._

_You’re a monster, Peter._

 

Peter jolted awake, sweat and tears coating his body. Clenching his eyes shut, he took deep breaths as he tried to calm his frantic heartbeat. _In. Count to five. Out. Repeat. It was just a nightmare. In. Count to five. Out. Repeat. In. count to –_

_What’s that noise?_

Peter snapped his eyes open and looked around, immediately panicking as he took in his surroundings. Everything was white and clean, almost sparkling clean. He was laying down on a bed. _Where on earth?_ His heart rate only quickened as he searched for whatever it was making that _god-awful_ noise, his eyes quickly landing on the heart monitor beside him. _Heart monitor? Am I in hospital?_

The door opened, before a stricken Bruce Banner walked in.

 

_Dr. Banner? What the f–_

Peter’s whole being instantly froze as memories flooded his brain. The fight. The chase. _The Avengers. No. No. NO._ Fear laced his veins as he quickly felt his face, before realising his mask wasn’t on. _NO. NO. NO._ He started to hyperventilate as his eyes watered.

“Hey, hey. Breathe with me yeah? It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you.”

 

Peter hadn’t even realised Bruce had walked over to him, eyes wide with concern as he took in Peter’s increasingly panicking state. “You have to calm down, you’ve only just woke up. Breathe. Take deep breaths. You’re safe. You’re safe. I promise. _I promise._ ”

 

Closing his eyes once again, Peter focused on his heartbeat. _One. Two. Three. Come on, Parker. Get yourself together. Four. Five. Six. Breathe for god’s sake. You can’t even do that. Seven. Eight. That’s better. Breathe. Nine. Ten._

He took a deep breath before opening his eyes once more, keeping his gaze locked to the floor beside him. He clenched his shaking hands, pressing his nails painfully into his palms, the pain somewhat grounding him. He heard Bruce let out a long breath beside him.

 

“I understand that you don’t want to talk. So, I’ll just let you know what happened instead, yeah? You must be confused right now. Is- is that okay?”

Peter didn’t reply. He just clenched his jaw, still focusing on the pain in his palms.

 

“You are in the medical bay of the Avengers compound. You – you fainted and hit your head pretty hard. We brought you here to make sure you were okay. You’ve only been out of it for about 6 hours,” Peter raised his eyes to watch as Bruce sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, clearly stressed about what he was going to say next, “Look, we… we need to ask you some questions still. Everybody wants to talk to you. You can say no, we can’t force you to answer anything.”

 

Peter almost scoffed. That was most definitely not their attitude before his face was revealed. He had two options here, either say no and presumably lie in this extremely uncomfortable bed for god knows how long or say yes and hopefully get out of here faster. _Parker Luck,_ he thought bitterly.

 

“Fine.”

 

Bruce raised his eyebrows, suspicious at Peters quick answer. However, he knew not to push it, and merely nodded his head. “Okay. Thank you. Tony left you some clothes on that chair over there, you can get changed if you want. I saw your… suit was soaked and dirty and thought you’d be happier in more comfortable clothes. Then I’ll take you back down to the common room. Is that okay?” Peter nodded once in response and Bruce walked out to give him some privacy.

 

Only once Peter was alone, did he allow himself to cry. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks as his brain worked a million miles a second. He was scared, lonely, starving, cold and in pain. He just wanted someone to hold him and promise everything was going to be okay. _Like who? Uncle Ben? Aunt May? Your parents? Ned? Oh wait. You’re alone._ He smacked himself painfully across the cheek, willing the stupid voice in his head to shut up. He couldn’t break down again.

 

Standing up slowly, Peter cringed at the harsh pain that shot through his ribs. He couldn’t tell if they were hunger pains or pain from getting hit with Captain America’s shield. Probably both. He slowly walked over to the chair Bruce pointed at and picked up the folded clothes that were sitting on it. Soft, grey sweatpants, a black NASA hoodie and socks. If this was _literally_ any other situation, Peter would be completely freaking out over the fact Tony Stark gave him clothes. Now he just bit his tongue harshly before getting changed. The clothes were warm and extremely comfortable. A little big but if anything, that made them even more inviting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had clean, warm clothes to get changed in to. _Well, that’s depressing._ Folding his dirty suit, he set it on the chair and walked over the door. Peter took a deep breath, closing his eyes momentarily before opening it. Bruce was waiting for him patiently outside and smiled slightly seeing Peter’s clothes. He motioned for Peter to walk beside him as they started towards the common room.

 

The walk was silent, which done nothing for Peter’s anxiety. He could hear Bruce’s quick heartbeat, indicating Bruce was also nervous. Still, he done nothing to fill said silence and instead kept his eyes to the floor.

 

Soon enough, they re-entered the room Peter had only been in hours before, and there waiting for him was every single Avenger sitting in different chairs. The atmosphere was the most uncomfortable Peter had ever been in. He could hear every single hesitant breath, every single nervous heartbeat. _Well, this is cosy._

“Why don’t you sit down, son.”

 

A voice was directed at him. Or more specifically, Steve Roger’s voice. Steve motioned towards a chair which was pointed towards the rest, clearly set up to make sure everybody could watch him closely. _You could punch him again you know. It was easy the first time._ Peter almost laughed, however realised how psychotic that would appear and bit his tongue instead. Keeping his eyes still locked on the floor, he made his way over to the chair and sat down hesitantly, ignoring the excruciating pain in his ribs whilst doing so. Bruce walked over to the couch closest to him and sat down too.

 

It was only then Peter realised what had actually happened. His mask was ripped off of him. Spider-Man now had a face to go with the name. Peter had officially lost the last good thing in his life. He didn’t have anything anymore.

 

The realisation hit him like a brick.

 

_At least you have nothing to lose anymore._

Peter silently agreed. He looked up and around the room. Literally every single avenger was there. It was almost surreal, seeing the heroes he had idolised for years sit directly in front of him. He had always wanted to meet them, however now he wanted nothing more than to get away from the group. Funny how that’s worked out, huh? _Parker Luck._

Steve cleared his voice. “Are you going to answer our questions?”

 

Peter nodded. He had nothing to lose anymore.

 

Tony sighed loudly and locked eyes with Peter. “Before any of these questions get answered, we want to apologise. We – we should’ve taken a different approach. You got hurt unnecessarily and we want to apologise for that. All of us. We’re sorry, kid. Truly.”

 

The rest of the room nodded in agreement. Peter didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t really thinking at all. He simply nodded and waited for the questions to begin.

 

“Okay,” Tony continued. “What’s your name?”

 

“Peter. Parker.” Peter replied shortly, fumbling with his hands. The small cuts in his palms from earlier had already healed.

 

“How old are you, Peter?” Steve asked.

 

Peter held his breath. _Well, here goes nothing._

“Fifteen.”

 

Gasps of shock echoed around the room. Peter almost found it humorous watching everybody’s faces change so quickly. Everybody’s except for Wanda, who just looked sad. _Huh._

 

Tony was the first to speak again, recomposing himself. “And you said you have been Spider-Man for two years? How did that happen?”

 

“I was on a field trip and got bit by a spider. Must’ve been radioactive or something. I was sick for a week and then one morning I woke up with these… abilities.”

 

Tony furrowed his eyebrows in thought.

 

“And what are those abilities?” Sam asked, intrigued.

 

Peter hummed before answering. “Enhanced strength. Enhanced speed. Enhanced hearing. Enhanced senses, basically. I’m more agile and flexible. Um, I can climb walls and stick to pretty much anything. Quick reflexes. Like I said before, I have the spider sense thing. I’m um… lighter? That sounds weird. I mean, my bones aren’t as heavy which makes it easier for me to get around quickly. I have a faster metabolism too. Oh, and enhanced healing. I think that’s all.”

 

Everybody looked deep in thought, casually flicking their gaze to Peter before looking at each other. It was… uncomfortable to say the least. Nobody knew quite what to make of him.

 

“Does your family know?” Clint asked suddenly.

 

Peter bit the inside of his cheeks, nails once again digging into his palms and reopening the small cuts from before. He was debating whether or not to tell the truth. _Well, you’ve already told them pretty much everything else, minus your social security number and what your first pet was called._ He quickly looked at Wanda, who was staring at him with such intensity he could almost feel her gaze. Her eyes were clouded with grief. She smiled sadly at him. He looked away, creeped out by her knowing smile. He almost thought she was reading his mind.

 

He breathed deeply, trying to steady his heartbeat. “I- I don’t… My family is dead.”

 

“All of them?” Steve asked, his brows furrowed.

 

Peter nodded in response. “All of them.”

He looked around, not knowing where or who to look at. You would think he was used to having the uncomfortable my-family-is-dead-don’t-feel-sorry-for-me conversation by now, yet here he was praying somebody would change the subject.

 

The silence was deafening.

 

“So… who takes care of you?” Peter almost forgot Natasha was there. She had been silent up until this point. He turned his head to look at her.

 

“No one.”

 

_Jeez Parker you should get an award for making an already ridiculously awkward and intense atmosphere even MORE uncomfortable._

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. “Okay kid you’re gonna have to elaborate a bit more than that.”

 

Peter sighed, his patience and energy dropping. _So, let’s make this even more awkward then, yes?_

 

“My parents died when I was young. Well, younger. Lived with my aunt and uncle. Uncle got murdered two years ago. Aunt last year. Been living on the streets ever since.”

 

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. No one knew what to say. Everybody wore different, yet blatantly similar expressions on their faces. Wanda looked sad, the same she’s looked ever since she laid her eyes on Peter. Steve looked shell shocked. Natasha’s face was stoic as usual; however, her eyes portrayed an emotion Peter couldn’t work out. Clint looked absolutely sorrowful. Bruce looked forlorn. Vision… well he was expressionless. Big surprise there. Sam’s expression was just one of pity. Rhodey was quite clearly disturbed. And Tony… he was confusing. He didn’t have an ounce of pity in his eyes, just slight sadness and… protectiveness? Peter was always good at reading emotions however, he was sure he was seeing that wrong.

 

The silence of the room was creating an atmosphere so tense it was hard to breathe. Peter silently prayed for something to happen, for somebody to speak. He turned his gaze to his hands, watching the skin on his palms heal itself. It was always intriguing to watch the process. And slightly disturbing. It was becoming something he done more often, watching his wounds heal. It distracted him and gave him something to do.

 

Suddenly his stomach grumbled loudly, and everybody looked relieved at the distraction. Steve smiled uncomfortably. “Hungry, kid?” _Hungry?_ _Hungry_ was an understatement. In fact, it could probably win understatement of the year. Peter was so hungry he could physically feel his body chewing away at his muscles, desperate for some energy. He genuinely couldn’t remember the last time he’d ate, before his mind remembered the small apple from the park. _When even was that? Yesterday? The day before?_ It felt like a lifetime ago.

 

He looked up at Steve, face blank. “A little.”

 

Steve nodded. “I’ll go make some food for everyone. It’s about dinner-time anyway.” He said, clearly relieved that he had a task he could focus on other than Peter, before leaving to go into the kitchen.

 

_Looks like were staying for dinner,_ Peter thought sourly to himself. His mood was turning increasingly negative by the minute. He wanted nothing more than to leave the stupid Avengers compound and go back to familiarity. He would be happy to never see another avenger again in his life. With the exception of Thor, of course. Thor is awesome.

 

Still, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was quite literally starving and in desperate need of food. He could leave after dinner.

 

At least he hoped he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one is kinda long, I literally couldn't stop typing once I started aksjals but I hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> as always, thank you for your continued support and kind comments. 
> 
> I love you all!


	8. you should've known

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LONG CHAPTER YALL!
> 
> Seriously, this was 10 pages of writing asjdkda
> 
> ENJOY!

Once Steve left the room, all eyes were turned back to Peter. He had hoped that the distraction of food would make the questions stop, however when had he ever been that lucky? After all, he’d only answered a small few, and was guessing there was much more to come. He was proved right as Tony opened his mouth to speak.

 

“So, Peter. The reason we wanted to question you in the first place is because we aren’t exactly… familiar with you and your abilities. All we know of you is what we see on the news and media, and they – we wanted to make sure you had good intentions in your actions.”

 

Peter hummed in response. He understood where they were coming from. It’s not like he could expect everybody to automatically think he’s a good guy, never mind the people whose literal jobs were to protect the world. For all they knew, he could be a lunatic. Still, he wasn’t going to break down his barriers so easily. He felt _pure rage_ building up in him. So far, the Avengers had given him no reason to trust them. In fact, they had given him multiple reasons not to.

 

He narrowed his eyes at Tony, who in response just raised an eyebrow before continuing with whatever he was saying.

 

“Okay, you don’t like us,” Peter laughed humourlessly, “fair enough. We haven’t exactly been _welcoming_ to say the least. How about we just get to know a little bit about you, yeah? You said you made your own webshooters. That’s pretty impressive. I take it you like science?”

 

Peter nodded dully. He _really_ wasn’t in the mood to chit chat with Tony Stark. Tony seemed to understand this and sighed, about to say something else. He was interrupted however when his phone rang, and he excused himself. Walking out of the room, Tony shot Peter an apologetic look before the door closed after him.

 

 _Captain America and Iron Man are both out the way._ Peter sighed to himself in relief, before realising that the most intimidating person out of all of them was still there, silently watching him. Black Widow. She seemed to notice his attention was now on her and moved to sit directly in front of him. Peter braced himself for whatever she was going to say.

 

Natasha wasted no time in making clear the point everybody was trying to make, “We need to know we can trust you. How do we know you won’t flip out one day and put your abilities to use in a detrimental way?”

 

Peter clenched his fists at what she was insinuating. Peter would never, _never_ harm an innocent civilian. It goes against literally everything he believed in, everything he promised himself.

 

“Let me make this clear to all of you,” he started, his patience wearing thin, “I don’t know what you have heard about me. Frankly, I couldn’t care less about what you all think of me,” everybody’s eyebrows went up at Peter’s cold tone, “but get this straight. I would never, _never_ harm innocent people. I would much rather die than put people’s lives at risk. I spend every single minute I possibly can trying to help. Sure, my actions may not be that significant in comparison to all of yours, however that doesn’t mean I care any less. I look out for the people that _you_ don’t seem to give a shit about. The people whose lives are _just_ as important, yet apparently not enough for any of the real ‘heroes’ to help. I am there when _you_ aren’t. How dare you insinuate that I could possibly hurt those people. I have the power to help them, to protect them. It’s my responsibility.”

 

Peter took a deep breath, trying to calm the anger that was building up in him. He was shocked at what he just said, never mind the fact it was directed at the _Black fucking Widow._ He almost felt ashamed at losing his temper in front of everybody. Still, he stood by what he said. He meant every single word of it.

 

He hadn’t even noticed that Steve and Tony had walked back into the room and had heard everything he just said. _Oh, that’s just fan-fucking-tastic._

 

The Avengers all looked to each other, not knowing what to say. Natasha just stared at Peter, her eyes narrowed and deep in thought. Her stare was extremely uncomfortable. Tony’s voice broke the silence as he leaned on the wall next to the door, an eyebrow raised and a slight smile on his lips.

 

“So, you wanna look out for the little guy, you wanna do your part, make the world a better place all that right?”

 

Peter looked up at him and swallowed nervously, now very much aware of everything he had just said, “Yeah – yeah, yeah, yeah, just… looking out for the little guy. That’s – that’s what it is.”

 

Tony nodded, keeping his gaze on Peter for a few seconds before looking over everyone, his eyes settling on Steve. “Dinner ready?”

 

Steve continued to watch Peter with a frown before realising he had been spoken to. He jumped up quickly, clapping his hands together. “Oh, yes. Yes, it is. Well, nearly. It’ll be ready in a few minutes if you all wanna sit at the table.”

 

Everybody rushed up, clearly thankful for the change of atmosphere. Natasha nodded to him Peter leaving. They all made their way out of the common room, each sparing a quick glance back at Peter. Tony seemed to want to say something to him before Rhodey ushered him out with the others.

 

Peter didn’t know what to do. Was he invited to sit with them or would he go back to the room he originally woke up in to eat? He lowered his gaze to the floor and sat awkwardly, feeling like an intruder, or a lost puppy.

 

Just then, Wanda walked over to him, a small smile on her face. Peter hadn’t even realised she was still in the room, never mind that she’d stayed behind to wait for him. “Come on, you can sit next to me.”

 

Peter was taken aback. He hadn’t expected anybody to act decent towards him, especially after what he’d said only minutes prior, pretty much insulting all of them. But here he was, extremely appreciative for the small gesture. He was still angry, hell he was in the worst mood he had been in for a long time; however, he could tell Wanda was trying to be kind to him. And for some reason, he found himself trusting her. Not fully, but much more than he trusted anybody else here. Maybe it was because she hadn’t actually done anything to hurt him, nor had she asked him any questions. Maybe it was because she wasn’t that much older than him. Or maybe it was the knowing look in her kind eyes, making Peter feel as though she understood his pain. _Or maybe you’re just crazy._ Nevertheless, he decided that he liked her.

 

Peter smiled softly for the first time since being in the compound and stood up next to her. They walked side by side out of the door and towards the kitchen. She looked over to him as they walked, a smile still on her face.

 

“I’m Wanda by the way. I hope you don’t feel too uncomfortable, I promise everybody is a softie at heart.”

 

Peter didn’t want to ruin her positive attitude by scoffing and instead decided to ignore the latter part of her sentence. “I’m Peter… although you knew that already.”

 

She nodded. “It’s lovely to meet you, Peter.”

 

Peter smiled and looked away. He then started to smell the heavenly scent of macaroni cheese that was coming from the end of the hallway. His mouth watered as he felt his stomach clench. He was _so damn hungry._ Peter couldn’t help but feel excited to have his first hot meal in months.

 

They soon reached the kitchen. Peter was in awe the moment he stepped into it. The room was massive, filled with everything you could ever want in a kitchen and more. One side of the room was just floor to ceiling windows, allowing Peter to see the sun set behind the city of New York, amber and pink shades flooding the room with a warm glow. It was ethereal. There were different plants scattered around, as well as lamps and small chairs, making the room feel comfortable and cosy (which Peter would’ve thought impossible due to the size, yet here we are.) In front of the windows was a huge rectangular table, surrounded by multiple chairs and full of dishes and cutlery.

 

Everybody was sat around the table. Steve and Tony were at opposite ends, _big surprise there,_ and were very clearly in charge. On the right of the table, next to Steve, sat Natasha, Clint, Sam and Rhodey. On the left near Tony was Vision, Bruce and Wanda’s seat. Peter noted there was two empty seats; one directly next to Tony, and one on Wanda’s other side. The team sat chatting to each other, barely noticing Peter’s presence.

 

Wanda walked over to her seat and sat down, motioning to the seat beside her for Peter. He hesitantly sat down beside her, shooting a small smile in her direction. A few of the others glanced over at the two curiously.

 

She seemed to notice his discomfort and turned her body towards him to talk. He was glad.

 

“So, what do you usually do when you’re Spider-Man? Describe your typical day to me.”

 

Peter smiled at being able to talk about being Spider-Man. He immediately felt less tense as he thought about his doings whilst on patrol.

 

“Well, every day is different. But it’s never boring. There’s always something I can do. Someone I can help,” Wanda smiled at him, watching how his eyes lit up whilst talking, “On the less active days, I swing around looking for things to do. Last week for example was relatively quiet. I got some cats out of tree’s, helped some elderly people cross the road, walked drunk people home to make sure they got back safely. Stopped a few robberies. You know, just small things. On the bigger days, its usually much more tiring,” he furrowed his brows slightly, “like the time there was this lunatic who tried to drive a bus full of children off a cliff,” Wanda briefly remembered the news report she had saw, “He had pretended to be their bus driver and went full crazy on them. No one knew what to do without endangering the kids… then the police started shooting at him and he snapped. He started driving off the cliff. I- I got there just in time.”

 

Peter didn’t like thinking about that too much, it haunted him to know what _could_ have happened had he not got there in time.

 

“That’s amazing, Peter. You saved them kids.” Wanda looked genuinely happy. It made Peter feel warm inside. He wasn’t used to getting praised for the things he done, he just saw it as something he had to do. He never questioned it. All he knew was he had to save people, it was his duty. And he loved it.

 

It was then a timer went off and Steve stood up, walking over to the oven and turning it off. He then revealed a ginormous, steaming dish of the best mac and cheese Peter thinks he’s ever seen. His eyes widened, his mouth watering. He heard Wanda chuckle beside him, watching his reaction.

 

Steve walked back over to the table, dish and spoon in hand, and started serving the food. He put huge portions in everybody’s bowl, before reaching Peter and pouring the food into his bowl with a smile. After everybody had their share, he sat back down and soon everyone was eating. Peter looked down at his bowl in awe, before grabbing his fork and taking a bite.

 

It was… indescribable. He genuinely couldn’t describe how good it tasted. He heard the buzz of chatter around him but couldn’t bring himself to focus on it. All he could concentrate on was the warm, cheesy, perfect bowl of deliciousness in front of him.

 

“Kid?”

 

“Peter?”

 

“Peter!”

 

Peter immediately froze, fork in his mouth as he turned to where his name was said. The whole table was looking at him in amusement. Steve cleared his throat, the corner of his mouth turned up.

 

“I asked if you liked it.”

 

_Liked it? LIKED IT? This is possibly the best mac and cheese in New York. Actually, the world. In fact, all the universes. There is no mac and cheese that could compare to this one. Not one. This mac and cheese is superior. It should have a medal. Or a crown. It should have statues in its honour. Countries. Everything._

Peter awkwardly swallowed his food and lowered his spoon, cheeks now flushed in embarrassment. How long had they been calling his name?

 

“Yes sir, very much so. Thank you.”

 

 _Sir? Thank you? What happened to being mad at them?_ Peter mentally rolled his eyes. He couldn’t help but be polite to the Captain, especially after he’d made him such an amazing meal.

 

Everybody smiled at him, clearly amused at both his huge appetite and manners. They turned their attention back off of him and started talking amongst themselves once more.

 

Peter let out a breath as he returned to eating his meal, cherishing every bite. After all, who knows how long he’ll have to go without food after this.

 

 _____________________________

 

Conversation died down not long after that, and now everybody was just finishing their meals. Peter was completely stuffed, and he welcomed the feeling. He hadn’t been full of food since he lived with his aunt.

 

Bruce stood up and began collecting everybody’s dirty dishes, taking them to the sink. Instantly, Peter started doing the same to help. He didn’t even think about his actions as he went back and forth, collecting and dropping dishes into the sink. He could feel everybody’s eyes on him, and once he had taken the last dish to the sink, he stopped and turned to face everyone. They all had different expressions on their face. Bruce looked at him, a small smile on his face.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Peter was confused. Why was he thanking him?

 

“Um… Doctor Banner, Sir, why are you thanking me? I haven’t done anything…”

 

Bruce just shook his head and sat back down. _Okay…_ Peter then mirrored the doctor’s actions, sitting back in his chair. Thoughts began to swim in his head. _What happens now? Dinner is over._ Peter glanced out the window. It was now pitch-black outside. He frowned to himself as he realised, he’d have to make his way back to the storage box soon. He didn’t like to admit it, but he was kind of enjoying his time at the tower. It was warm. Like, really warm. The atmosphere was one that reminded him of a time when his aunt and uncle were still alive. He had a delicious meal. Laughter filled the air. Peter wasn’t alone, for the first time in over a year.

 

Of course, he knew that the Avengers hated him and most likely wanted him out as soon as possible. But if he closed his eyes, even just for a second, he could pretend that everything was okay. _Stop it, Parker. You’re alone. You’ll always be alone. It’s just how it is._

He was pulled out of his thoughts by someone placing their hand over his. He snapped his eyes open and flinched, before realising who it was. Wanda was looking at him in deep concern, a small frown on her lips. She squeezed his hand.

 

“You okay?” She whispered.

 

_No. I don’t think I’ll ever be okay again._

“Yes. I’m fine. Thank you.” He smiled reassuringly at her, slightly confused at her worry. Looking at her concerned eyes, he could almost pretend that she cared about him.

 

Peter then glanced around the room, his eyes catching sight of a clock on the wall. _Shit. 11pm?_

He stood up then, capturing the attention of everyone around the table. Anxiety filled his body, not liking the sudden attention. He cleared his throat.

 

“Um… I should probably go. It’s getting pretty late and I – I should probably go,” Peter didn’t understand why he felt so _sad._ He should be relieved that it’s time for him to go. These people kidnapped him, hurt him and unmasked him. He didn’t even know if he was _allowed_ to go, or if they had other plans for him. However, considering the relaxed atmosphere, he guessed that nobody was in a rush to question him anymore, “thank – thank you for the meal. It was delicious. Really. I – I just want to tell you that I promise I’m no threat to society. You don’t have to worry about me. Um… yeah. I – yeah. Okay. I’ll get out of your hair now.”

 

He smiled slightly at all of them, turning away.

 

“Kid.”

 

He turned back around, now looking at Tony Stark, who was looking at him with a small frown on his face.

 

“You have nowhere to go. Its freezing outside,” Peter went to say something however Tony put a hand up, silencing him, “surely you didn’t expect us to throw you outside in sub-zero temperatures to sleep on the streets?”

 

“Um… yeah?” Peter replied, not knowing where this conversation was headed.

 

Everybody around the room collectively sighed, making Peter’s confusion grow. What had he said?

 

Clint ran a hand through his hair. “Peter. Regardless of what you may think, we aren’t monsters.”

 

Peter was _really_ confused now. He wasn’t sure if he’d insulted them or what he’d said that made them so upset. He helplessly looked down at Wanda, who just rolled her eyes and stood up next to him.

 

“They are telling you that you’re going to spend the night here.”

 

_Oh._

“What? No, no, I- I’m fine. That’s really okay.”

 

Steve then sighed as he looked away briefly, clearly considering his words for what he was going to say next. He looked back at Peter before standing up.

 

“Look. We – understand that you may hate us. You have every right to. But I think I speak for everyone when I say it’s pretty obvious that you’re a good kid,” murmurs of agreement went around the table, “you could’ve easily put up a fight, you’ve could’ve easily taken a chance and left. But you didn’t. You could’ve easily used your abilities to hurt people long before now, but you didn’t. I know Tony already apologised to you, but I’ll say it again. Were all deeply sorry. If you want to leave in the morning you can, but please let us give you a place to stay for tonight. We know you have nowhere else to go.”

 

Peter was speechless. Everybody was looking at him with such sincerity he felt his heart lurch. Even Natasha seemed to agree with Steve. _Is this a trick?_ Peter didn’t know. Although he probably shouldn’t, he found himself hoping it wasn’t.

 

Peter briefly thought of Ned, and how he would be reacting to this. Ned would be completely freaking out, fanboying about how the _Avengers_ were offering Peter a place to stay. The thought made Peter’s eyes water slightly, wishing he could talk to his best friend.

 

He looked back outside the window, his enhanced sight picking up on the frost that was starting to coat the glass. Peter involuntarily shivered, knowing the weather forecast was set for snow tonight. He sighed before looking back at the team, who all seemed to be waiting for his answer.

 

“Okay – I’ll stay the night.”

 

Relief washed over everybody’s faces. Wanda hugged him from the side briefly, making Peter flinch but relax soon after. He knew Wanda wouldn’t hurt him. He couldn’t help the small smile that made its way on to his face at her action.

 

Tony smiled slightly before his usual stoic expression replaced it; however, his eyes still seemed happy. Bruce stood up then, walking over next to Peter.

 

“I’ll show you to your room. Do you want any more food before you go? Tea?”

 

Peter shook his head, ignoring the warm feeling inside his stomach at the mention of tea before bed. That was his and aunt May’s thing. He couldn’t get too comfortable around the Avengers.

 

Bruce smiled at him, “okay, let’s go then.”

 

Bruce walked out of the room, Peter following. He quickly turned his head back to Wanda, who whispered a small, “goodnight” to him before she sat back down.

 

A million thoughts a minute were racing through Peter’s head as he walked with Bruce down the hallway. He didn’t know what to think about the turn of events that had just taken place. It never occurred to him for even a second that the Avengers would be kind to him. He was shocked when they offered him dinner, never mind a bed for the night. _They are just taking pity on you. Don’t take it to heart._

Peter wasn’t focusing on his surroundings before he realised that they were stepping into an elevator.

 

“Guest floor, please FRIDAY.” Bruce spoke to seemingly no one.

 

“Right away, Dr. Banner. Hello again, Mr Parker.” A smooth, accented voice addressed him.

 

Peter jumped before remembering the voice that spoke to him when he first woke up.

 

“Um, hi?”

 

Bruce chuckled at Peter’s reaction as the elevator surged upwards. Mere seconds later they came to a stop and stepped into yet another hallway. This one was different though, there was a plush white carpet on the floor, and pictures hung on the walls. There was a section to his right which was just open space, filled with couches and beanbags. Bruce started walking, Peter staying slightly behind.

 

“This is just where the guest rooms are. Each Avenger has their own floor, but Tony made sure there was one specifically for friends and family that may stay.” Bruce informed him.

 

Peter nodded, even though Bruce wasn’t looking at him.

 

They walked down the hallway before coming to a stop at a door on the left. Bruce opened it and they walked into a giant bedroom. It was white, brown and black themed. A guitar leaned on the wall next to a chestnut bookcase, filled with every book you could think of. There was a matching desk which had a Stark Industries computer on top of it. Peter then spotted a door in the corner of the room, presumably leading to a bathroom. In the centre of the room, leaning against the nearest wall, was a huge king-size bed, full of cushions and blankets. It looked _so comfortable._

Bruce scratched his head nervously before looking at Peter. “Is this okay for you?”

 

Peter furrowed his brows slightly. He wasn’t used to being in such luxurious rooms. He grew up in a small two-bedroom apartment with his aunt and uncle, money always tight. He loved it though, it was home. _Stop thinking about them._

Turning to Bruce, he plastered a smile on his face. “It’s great. Thank you.”

 

Bruce nodded at him, an unsure smile on his face. “Okay. I- I’ll leave you to get some rest. Make yourself comfortable okay? If you need me – or anyone – just let FRIDAY know and she’ll alert us. Goodnight, Peter.”

 

“Goodnight.” Peter replied, watching Bruce shut the door behind him as he left.

 

Peter sighed, the events of the day finally catching up to him. _What even is my life?_

 

Just then a wave of exhaustion came over him. A childish smirk found its way on to his face as he looked over at the huge bed in front of him. Sprinting over to it, he jumped and face-planted into the soft cushions, immediately relaxing into them. It literally felt as though he was lying on a cloud. _So much better than the floor of a storage box._

He quickly raised his head, looking for a light switch and frowning when he couldn’t find one. Then he sighed, feeling a bit of an idiot for what he was about to do.

 

“Um… voice in the walls? Friday? Can you – do you mind turning the lights off please? If- if not its fine! You know what? It’s okay, you don’t have to listen to me. I’ll just – I’ll put my head in the pillow. It’s okay. Yeah.”

 

Peter cringed at himself, of course the AI wouldn’t listen to him. He was nobody, he was just a -

 

“Right away, Mr. Parker. I hope you have a good sleep. I’ll be here if you need me throughout the night.”

 

The lights turned off as Peter sighed out in relief. He wasn’t expecting her to reply to him. _Obviously._ He thought she’d hate him, considering he insulted her creator and pretty much everybody she liked. Could she even like things? Was that possible?

 

He rolled his eyes and lay his head back on the pillow, all his thoughts vanishing at once.

 

Then, he was out like a light, instantly falling into the best sleep he’s ever had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Wanda.
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1000+ KUDOS! I cant believe that many people have even read this, never mind took the time to leave a kudos. you're all amazing. 
> 
> I know I'm updating quite a lot right now, Im trying to dish out as many chapters as I can before I go back to college after the holidays. college always leaves me shattered, (I do musical theatre), so I know I won't be updating as much then. it'll probably be once a week :(
> 
> but for now I hope you're liking the extra long, frequent chapters!
> 
> as always thank you for your lovely comments. they make my day. 
> 
> love you all. 
> 
> (also, if you're interested, I have a stan twitter account where I basically just rant about peter and tony sakjskajs, I also post about my upcoming chapters. if you want to follow its @spiderlingniamh ; if not thats fine too.) 
> 
> byeee!


	9. i wish it was me, not you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok, before I say anything else, let me apologise for being away for so long.
> 
> I could sit here and come up with a bunch of excuses as to why I haven't updated in a literal month, however imma just be honest and say that I've been super unmotivated and lazy. 
> 
> but still, I missed writing this so much. so here is a badly written, no-plot chapter for y'all because im cruel lmao
> 
> in all seriousness this is just a filler chapter, something that forced me to get past the writers block. so there is pretty much nothing plot-wise in it, and it is also very short. ill be writing the next chapter tomorrow though, so it won't be long before we advance in the story. this was purely just to get me back into the story and an excuse to talk to y'all again. 
> 
> still, enjoy.

After Peter left the room with Bruce, Tony let out a long breath which he hadn’t realised he had been holding. He wasn’t sure Peter would accept their help. In all honesty, he had thought he would _definitely_ reject it. After all, the team hadn’t given him many reasons to trust them, however he was glad that he’d accepted it. More than glad. The kid looked exhausted.

 

The team sat in a heavy silence, all immersed in thoughts about Peter.

 

Wanda was the first to speak, sighing as she looked at her teammates. “He’s a good person. When he was first brought here, I… looked into his head,” everybody looked at her in silent judgement before she continued, “don’t look at me like that. We didn’t know who we were dealing with. Anyway, like I said, he’s a good person. And has been through… a lot, to say the least.”

 

Tony watched as she furrowed her eyebrows, eyes clouded with grief. He wondered just _how_ much the boy had been through to make her look like that. Cleary it was a fair amount, considering he was homeless and had no family, at _fifteen._ It caused a sinking feeling in his stomach which he didn’t allow himself to think about.

 

“You care about him, don’t you?” Steve asked her, a frown on his lips.

 

Wanda nodded her head sadly, briefly looking away before replying, “He… he reminds me of Pietro. I- I can’t help but care for the boy. He needs somebody he can trust here, at least a little.”

 

Immediately everybody’s heads turned down in shame at her words. Tony furrowed his brows as he thought about the fifteen-year-old sleeping upstairs, questions swimming in his mind. _Why is he homeless? What happened to his family? Friends?_

 

Natasha cleared her throat, catching the attention of those around her, “So, what happens now?” She looked to Tony, clearly expecting him to already be thinking ahead as usual.

 

Tony opened his mouth to answer before the sound of footsteps entering stopped him. They all turned to look at Bruce, who had now re-entered after showing Peter to his room. He smiled shyly at them, not fond of the sudden attention.

 

“How is he?” Clint asked as soon as Bruce sat down.

 

“Uh… hard to tell. I mean, I think he’s fine. A bit overwhelmed but other than that he seems as okay as he can be in this situation.”   

 

Everybody nodded their heads, not knowing what to say or do. They had been in a lot of situations over the years, some more crazy and unbelievable than others. Fighting aliens? They could manage. Battling robots? Normal. Dealing with an enhanced teenager that had nowhere to go, no family to live with, and was currently asleep upstairs? _That_ was something they were not prepared for.

 

Sighing for the millionth time that day, Tony stood up and walked over to the door, turning back to face the team just before he left.

 

“Let’s get some sleep, we’ll see how the kid is in the morning. It’s been a long day. He needs all the rest he can get.”

 

He nodded once before leaving, a room full of confused and slightly irritated people behind him.

 

________________________________________________________________________________

  

Peter woke up.

 

At first, his initial thought when waking was, _this is such a comfortable bed._

 

Then, he’d thought about weird it was that his sleep was completely free of his usual heart-breaking, body-numbing, sweat-inducing nightmares.

 

And lastly, the final thoughts to run through his oblivious little brain before he opened his eyes were the memories of yesterday.

 

 Yes, now Peter was officially awake.

 

He snapped his eyes open, instantly jumping out of bed and dizzying suddenly at the quick movement. _Stood up too fast._

 

Looking around, Peter took in his new surroundings. A yawn escaped his lips as he walked over to the large window, shoulders hunched in tension. The sun was high in the sky, letting Peter know it must be around mid-morning. That in itself was unusual, considering he was almost always awake and out on patrol by dawn. Still, he had to admit the feeling of being well-rested was welcomed.

 

The view from his – _his?_ – room was truly breath-taking. He could see everything; a swarm of birds flying in the distance; people out walking their dogs; elderly couples walking in the park. He couldn’t help the small smile that sneaked its way onto his face as he watched. Everything seemed so _peaceful._ For a moment he could almost forget about where he was.

 

Of course, the moment was soon over as Peter’s enhanced ears picked up on Tony Stark’s voice downstairs. Sighing, Peter ran a hand through his hair as he thought about the team of heroes. He wasn’t sure what to make of them. Wanda seemed nice enough, and all of them seemed fairly remorseful of their actions towards him, however Peter knew better than to feel comfortable around them. He needed to escape, and he needed to do it soon. He couldn’t even begin to think of the amount of crime he no doubt missed while he was at the compound.

 

_Let’s just deal with this and get out of here._

Sighing, Peter walked into the bathroom to clean up. He was used to feeling dirty, considering he lived on the streets, however being in such a prestigious building magnified the feeling immensely.

 

The first thing he noticed once he was in the bathroom was his appearance. The large floor length mirror forced him to look at himself properly, which he hadn’t done in months; something he was thankful for. The sinking feeling Peter got in his chest whenever he was forced to look at himself was almost unbearable. Furrowing his brows, Peter looked himself up and down, fully taking in his reflection. His hair was much longer than he’d last remembered and stuck out in messy brown curls. His face had sunken in considerably, making his already big eyes seem bug-like. What were once brown eyes full of life were now dull – however Peter knew they still portrayed his emotions clear as day. He could never hide how he was feeling; his eyes always gave him away. Peter bit the inside of his cheeks, clenching his jaw has he took in his body. He was scarily thin, almost skeletal. Of course, this was bound to happen; he burned off far more calories than he consumed every day, however it was sickening to witness just how much weight he had lost.

 

All of this, as well as the paleness of his skin and dark bags under his eyes, made Peter look like a corpse. His eyes then burned with sudden tears as the familiar feeling of self-hatred hit him full force. Closing his eyes, Peter took a deep breath, digging his nails into his palms and grounding himself with the pain.

 

_Come on, Peter. Just do what you need to do and get out._

Stripping his clothes off, Peter turned around and stepped into the shower. Immediately, he was reminded of his last morning in his apartment. His old life. Thinking back, he couldn’t believe how simple it used to be. It was just him and May against the world.

 

At the thought of May, his chest constricted and suddenly he couldn’t breathe. _Your fault your fault your fault your fault._

Peter threw his hands on the wall in front of him to steady himself, trying his best to breathe. He couldn’t think of her right now. Slowly, Peter took a deep breath and turned the shower on. Hot water instantly washed over him, like a waterfall, and suddenly Peter forgot about his almost-panic attack. His tense muscles relaxed, the steam helping him to breathe clearly. Peter stood there for what felt like hours before realising he should probably hurry up. Luckily there were bottles of body wash, as well as shampoo and conditioner, placed on the side of the shower. Peter cleansed his body before washing his hair, relishing in the feeling of cleaning dry blood, grease and sweat out of his hair. The shampoo smelled of lemons too, which just added to the pleasure.

 

Eventually Peter forced himself to leave the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist and stepping back into the bedroom. It hit him then that he had nothing to wear and was suddenly struck with anxiety.

 

“Um… FRIDAY? Are you- can you hear me? Are you there?” He spoke into the air, feeling like an idiot.

“Good morning, Mr Parker. I hope you slept well.” The smooth voice rang through the walls in response.

 

Peter breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that she would answer him, that was proven last night, however the fear of being completely ignored was still at the back of his mind.

 

“Uh, yeah, I did. Thank you. Um, I was just wondering if there are any… spare clothes I could use? I just – I don’t know If I’m meant to use the same ones I wore last night – which I’m completely fine with by the way I just wasn’t sure…”

 

“You will find spare clothes in the closet beside the bathroom, Mr Parker.”

 

Peter was surprised at that, he hadn’t even noticed the closet never mind thought to look in it. He walked over to it, opening the doors and found himself faced with different clothes all hung up. There were drawers too, seemingly also filled to the top.

 

_Woah. Mr Stark really prepares himself for everything._

“So, am I- am I just allowed to wear what I want? I don’t want to take anything that’s special or expensive or anything.” He asked FRIDAY, suddenly aware of how nice a lot of the clothes looked.

 

“Yes, Mr Parker. Boss makes sure his guests are always well cared for. You can wear whatever you like and keep it. He doesn’t mind, really.”

 

Peter nodded, still feeling incredibly guilty for what he was about to do. Not that he liked Tony Stark, or any of the Avengers for that matter, however he knew better than to be greedy. This all felt like too much. Still, Peter knew he couldn’t walk around naked. Scaling through the tops, Peter ignored all of the expensive looking shirts and instead found a whole bunch of t-shirts with science puns on them. He wasn’t _too_ surprised, considering Tony Stark was a genius, however he hadn’t expected him to be such a nerd like Peter. A small smile made its way on to Peters face as he found a white t-shirt with the line, ‘The physics is theoretical, but the fun is real.’ on it. Yep, he was definitely wearing that. Peter then turned his attention on finding bottoms and settled on some dark grey sweatpants. Jeans were never comfortable, and most likely wouldn’t fit. At least with sweatpants he could adjust them. Then grabbing some socks and – embarrassingly for Peter – underwear, he got changed.

 

His hair was starting to dry in soft curls and Peter instantly felt a million times more comfortable than he had in a long time, which terrified him. He didn’t _deserve_ to be comfortable. Still, he was glad that he no longer smelled of sweat, blood and literal garbage. He felt clean and smelled of lemons. He couldn’t deny that the change was welcomed.

 

Peter shook his head, angry at himself for wasting so much time in the shower and started thinking of a plan to escape. He couldn’t try the windows, that would be a bad repeat of last time and most likely wouldn’t end well. It seemed he’d have to leave through the door, which meant having to go downstairs and facing everybody. Peter cursed and took a breath before walking over to the bedroom door and walking out. He hated how small he felt, the building was huge and so unfamiliar. Still, he remembered how to get to the elevator and soon found it.

 

“FRIDAY, where do I go?” He asked once he was inside.

 

“I’ll take you to the kitchen, that’s where everybody currently is.”

 

“Oh- okay. Um. Thanks.”

 

Anxiety twisted at his insides like a knife. He was, simply put, scared shitless. He had no idea how the team would react to him. Would they let him leave? They said so last night, however Peter wouldn’t bet on it straight away.

 

“Of course, Mr Parker.”

 

Peter jumped at FRIDAY’s voice, his previous thoughts disappearing, “Please, call me Peter. Mr Parker sounds really formal.” He cringed at the name, being reminded of Ben and May and everything that had been ripped away from him.

 

“Okay, Peter. Thank you. We are here.”

 

Peter hadn’t even had time to fully acknowledge the AI’s words before the elevator’s doors opened, and suddenly before him were the Avengers. 

 

Peter clenched his fists painfully and nervously stepped out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im really not happy with this chapter, but like I said it was only to get me back into writing. 
> 
> next chapter will be out before the end of the week. I promise. 
> 
> thank you all so much for your lovely messages. and also, I cant believe how much kudos and reads this has received. its insane. thank you SO much. you're all the best. 
> 
> see you soon! 
> 
> lots of love.


	10. and just say the word

 

“Well maybe, _Rogers,_ if you weren’t such a fucking _idiot_ then we could’ve already had breakfast ready by now.”

 

Peter stepped into the kitchen to these words, clearly walking in on some sort of argument which had been going on for a while. Steve and Tony were each standing on opposite sides of the kitchen island, with Steve waving around a spatula and wearing a slightly guilt expression whilst Tony rolled his eyes. Natasha was sat perched on top of a counter, book in hand and looking very used to this type of conversation.

 

“Is there really a need in the language, Tony? I just burned the eggs. It was an accident. Not a big deal.”

 

So far nobody had been made aware of Peters entrance, which was all kinds of strange considering there was both a super-soldier and spy in this one room, however Peter wasn’t rushing to make himself known anytime soon.

 

“It _wouldn’t be a big deal_ had we not already made the bacon, sausages and beans which are now cold due to you messing up on the _one, singular task_ which was assigned to you. Now we’re going to have to re-heat everything, and re-heated bacon does not taste good, Rogers.”

 

“God, Stark, you are such a damn drama queen,” came the voice of Natasha who was listening to the entire conversation in amusement from on top of a counter whilst reading a book, “and I would have happily listened to this for the solid few hours you guys would have no doubt continued for, however there is a child in the corner of the room who looks like he wants to jump out of the window at any moment.”

 

_Huh. So, she did notice. Of course she did._

 

All eyes were on Peter now, immediately causing Peter to want the floor to swallow him whole. Steve cleared his throat as he turned to Peter.

 

“Oh, hello son. Sorry about,” he made a waving gesture with his hands, using the spatula to motion to the mess – and Tony – around him, “this. How did you sleep?”

 

_Well, for the first time in a year I wasn’t plagued by nightmares of my families’ rotting corpses and pleading voices. So, overall, I slept well. How about you Captain?_

 

Of course, Peter couldn’t say that, instead responding with a shy and simple, “uh, yeah good, thank you.”

 

Tony once again rolled his eyes at Steve before turning to Peter.

 

“Hey kid. Nice shirt. We’re making breakfast if you want some. Won’t be for another 15 minutes or so,” he shot a glare in Steve’s direction who just shook his head and looked to Natasha who shrugged, “but until then you can just do whatever.”

 

Peter chewed on the inside of his cheek, internally battling his thoughts as he surveyed the scene in front of him.

 

_Don’t even think about it. You don’t want to spend any more time with these people than you have to._

 

He knew he should probably listen to the voice inside his head, however he couldn’t help but take pity on Steve who was _still_ poking the already burnt eggs on the stove as If hoping they would magically fix themselves.

 

“Uh, I can take over for Mr. Rogers if you want. I’m pretty good at making eggs, I have them – used to have them for breakfast most days.” Peter smiled awkwardly at Steve who was trying to cover up the look of relief on his face.

 

Tony sighed and shook his head before raising an eyebrow at Steve.

 

“Go on then. You heard him, go make yourself useful elsewhere. God knows why he wants to help us yet again but anything that will make this food go in my stomach faster is nothing to question.”

 

At this, Steve shot Peter a small smile and a thanks before handing him the spatula and walking out of the kitchen. Natasha then snapped her book closed, nodded to Peter, and hopped off the kitchen counter, leaving without a word.

 

“Huh. Am I really that bad company?” Tony asked in mock offense.

 

Peter didn’t really want to answer that, instead cleaning up Steve’s mess and grabbing a new pan for the eggs. He got to work in silence, unsure of whether or not to make small talk with Tony or rather just listen to his own thoughts.

 

Tony already seemed to have resolved this dilemma on his own.

 

He turned, watching Peter crack the new eggs into the pan perfectly, “So, kid. I was thinking about your webshooters. I’m really intrigued as to how you built them and was wondering if you’d like to build some sort of upgrade with me in my lab – not that they need it, I’m sure, just if you’re interested.”

 

Peter didn’t turn around; however, he narrowed his eyes in distrust at the eggs. Clearing his throat, he listened to the sizzle of the slowly-darkening food in front of him, thinking his next words over carefully.

 

“Not that that doesn’t sound fun or anything, Mr. Stark, but I’d really rather head out as soon as possible,” he then added, “thanks for the offer though.”

 

Peter heard Tony sigh behind him. Clearly that wasn’t the answer he was hoping for; however, Peter knew that the moment he got too comfortable with being in the tower something would go wrong. And besides, he had already been just Peter long enough and had begun to ache for Spider-Man.

 

“Okay, well the offer is there.”

 

Peter nodded once and flipped the eggs. Silence rose between the two once more, however this time no one made an effort to fill it. Peter couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for acting so cold towards Tony, but at the same time he had to remind himself of where he was and what had happened. _Don’t get comfortable with them._

 

Once he was sure the eggs were done – and not under OR overcooked – Peter turned off the stove and took them off the heat. He couldn’t help but be transported back into his old life, making eggs for him and May every morning before school. She wasn’t the _best_ cook, so Peter was always in charge of the food whilst May made tea and coffee. She would always comment on how Peter most definitely got his chef skills from Ben which would make Peter’s heart warm.

 

He sighed quietly to himself. _God, he missed them._ All too quickly his eyes started watering, forcing Peter to close them until they went back to normal.

 

“Kid? You good?”

 

Peter jumped and spun around quickly, nodding. Blood rushed to his face in embarrassment due to being caught zoning out _again._

 

“Y-yeah I’m good. The eggs are done.”

 

Tony rose an eyebrow at him, clearly suspicious of his state, but must’ve decided to not comment further on it. Instead he nodded and started filling up the plates for everyone before looking up to the ceiling.

 

“Hey Fri? Tell everyone breakfast is ready and to get their ass down here before it goes cold _again._ ”

 

“Already done, Boss.”

 

Peter was pretty proud of himself for not jumping when the AI’s voice echoed around the kitchen, however to him that also meant he was getting a little bit too used to being in the compound for too long.

 

Once breakfast was set up, the rest of the team started filling up the kitchen and taking their seats at the table. Everybody smiled at him as they passed, each with a slightly different look on their face. Wanda was the last person to walk in, who then ran up to Peter as soon as she saw him and enveloped him in a hug.

 

“Peter! You’re still here!”

 

He chuckled nervously, still slightly uncomfortable with the hugging situation that Wanda seemed to have going on. Peter used to _adore_ being touched, in fact he used to crave hugs and got in a dark mental place whenever he went without one for too long, but ever since he ran away from the apartment, they were the last thing he wanted anymore. He felt he didn’t deserve any sort of kind gesture. _Yeah, because you don’t._

He squeezed her back once as way to politely ask her to let go, which she did.

 

“Uh – yeah. Still here.”

 

She smiled at him as they both walked over to their seats and sat down with everybody else. Peter was sat there for barely two seconds before his spidey sense started screaming at him to move. Without thinking, he spun around to catch whatever was being thrown at him. It was an orange, and the perpetrator was gawking at him.

 

Clint seemed to be amazed by what had just happened.

 

“Dude, _how_ do you do that? I wasn’t actually expecting you to catch it!”

 

That got him a smack on the head from Sam and a roll of the eyes from Natasha.

 

“He already told us he could do that, идиот. Could you perhaps stop being irritating for at least a few minutes?”  

 

Everybody laughed at that, including Peter as he awkwardly set down the orange which was in his hands. Clint mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Peter – to which he nodded to – and breakfast continued on in a semi-normal manner. Well, as normal as eating breakfast with the _Avengers_ can be. The atmosphere was light, with casual chit chat going around, and for once Peter actually felt pretty okay.

 

Of course, that just couldn’t last for Peter. 

 

After a while of everybody talking to each other and eating breakfast, the conversation soon turned to Peter.  

 

“So,” Steve started, “Peter. What are your plans for today then?”  

 

All focus turned to him as Peter set down the fork he was about to raise to his mouth. “Uh, just get back out there and patrol, I guess. I haven’t done much of that lately. Speaking of, do you guys have my suit?”  

 

Tony raised his eyebrows at the use of the word, ‘suit’, taking a drink of his coffee before answering. “You mean the tattered onesie you prance around in? Yeah, I have it.”

 

Peter tried to ignore the small dig at his suit, biting the inside of his cheek and trying not to retort that not everybody has millions of dollars which they can spend on a state-of-the-art super-suit, thank you very much. Instead he narrowed his eyes.

 

“Okay, well, can I have it back?” Peter asked slowly.

 

Everybody else was watching the two like a tennis match, their eyes dancing between Peter and Tony.

 

“Oh sure. But unless you want to go out with holes in places you _really_ don’t want the world to see, I’d suggest waiting until it gets patched up.”

 

Peter’s cheeks flushed in anger or embarrassment, he wasn’t sure which. He knew his suit was pretty badly damaged, but it had never been a problem until now, as he always sewed it up himself. Tony was clearly just trying to find a reason to keep Peter inside for as long as possible, and that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

 

“That’s fine. I’ll patch it up myself. I’d very much like to be on my way though, if you don’t mind.”

 

Tony put his hands up in surrender, eyebrows raised. “Okay. Sure. I get it. You have your own life, you want to protect Queens, blah blah blah. But we are _not_ gonna let your stubborn ass die from hypothermia out on the streets. All I’m suggesting, is you think about the offer I am going to give you.”

 

Peter fought back the eye roll that desperately wanted to come out. Who knew being around his idols would be so exhausting? It was much easier admiring them from a distance, where they _weren’t_ trying to intervene with his life and problems that he was quite happily running away from.

 

From beside him, Wanda nudged his arm and whispered to him.

 

“Just listen, Peter. Please.”

 

He sighed and nodded, signalling for Tony to continue.

 

“So, let’s be honest here kid. You don’t have anywhere to go. You don’t have a home, a family – I’m sorry but it’s true – and you don’t have any means of safety to support or take care of yourself. I don’t know what happened in your past, but what I do know is this compound is big enough for all of us. What I am offering is a place to stay. A new suit. Training. Somewhere to feel safe. You could go to school. Live a normal life. What d’ya say?”

 

Everybody held their breath. Bruce – who once again had been pretty much silent the entire time – now was keeping his whole attention directly on Tony, a shocked expression on his face. In fact, the entire team – par Wanda – seemed to be in complete disbelief over the offer Tony had just made. Clearly this wasn’t talked about beforehand, and _clearly_ this wasn’t a usual for Tony either.

 

A million thoughts sped through Peter’s head. He thought of living with the Avengers, training with them, possibly making some sort of connection with each of them. He thought of working beside Tony in his lab, making upgrades for suits and new projects. He thought about building up a friendship with Wanda, who had been nothing but nice to him since he got here. He thought about a new suit, no doubt filled with amazing features and all the possibilities of what it could do. He thought of going back to school, maybe reuniting with Ned. He thought of having a home. A family.

 

Then, he thought of everything _else_.

 

For over a year, Peter had been making himself comfortable with being uncomfortable. He cherished every single bite of food, every sunny day, every kind smile a stranger sent him. He spent more hours as Spider-Man than Peter and put everybody’s needs over his own. For a year, Peter had been sprinting away from his past, convinced that everything that had happened to his family was his fault. His parents. Uncle Ben. _Aunt May._ The thought of going from that to living a life in complete luxury was too much for him. Never mind the fact that the people offering were the same people who had hurt, kidnapped, hurt again, unmasked and then questioned him.

 

_You don’t deserve what they are offering. Everybody you get close to ends up dead._

_Besides, they are probably lying. Why on earth would they take in a homeless, pathetic, psychopath that has family issues and despises himself?_

Another nudge from Wanda broke him out of his thoughts, as he realised everybody was still staring at him and waiting for an answer. His heart started pounding and the all-too-familiar feeling of an early anxiety attack started filling every inch of his body. For what felt like a millionth time, Peter dug his nails into his palms to ground himself.

 

“That- that sounds great,” everybody let out a breath, “but I am going to have to refuse your offer. Thank you, Mr. Stark and everyone else, but I’m gonna go now.”

 

The atmosphere in the room instantly went cold, not from anger or awkwardness, but more from sadness.

 

“Peter, just - ” Bruce started, but a shake of the head from Natasha silenced him.

 

Sam then stood up and walked out of the room, only to return a few minutes later with a bag which he handed to Peter.

 

“I know he said it was still ripped, but Tony had us patch it up for you when you first got here. Your web shooter things are in there too.”

 

Peter looked in the bag and, sure enough his homemade suit and shooters where in there – both in a much better condition than they had been in a long time. He looked up to Sam and smiled gratefully.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Sam just ruffled his hair before sighing and sitting back down. Peter took this has his que to stand up and leave. Wanda followed and continued to give Peter yet another hug, however this one was tighter than the others. Once she let go, she looked at him with a sad smile.

 

“Be safe, Peter. You’re a good person. You deserve so much more than you think.”

 

_If only you knew, Wanda._

Peter just smiled at her and took her hand in his before giving it a small, comforting squeeze. Then he turned back to face everybody else.

 

“It was… nice to meet you guys, finally. I- I’ll see you around I’m sure.”

 

He nearly laughed at his own words, for why on earth would he, Peter Parker, ever see the Avengers again. Still, it felt like the right thing to say, considering everybody was currently looking at him as though they were genuinely upset by him leaving – once again, laughable, but that _is_ what they looked like.

 

“Try to take care of yourself out there, паучок.” Natasha’s smooth voice addressed him with a small nod.

 

Peter, of course, had absolutely no idea what language she was speaking or what she had called him, however it didn’t appear to be too insulting, so he gave her a slightly tight-lipped smile in return. It was then, as Peter was looking at the team, he realised that he hadn’t seen the Winter Soldier at all during his ‘stay’. He wondered why he hadn’t noticed earlier but was now in no position to ask since he was leaving. _Huh._

 

Tony then stood up and walked around to Peter, pulling out something from his pocket.

 

“If you really insist on going back to living in hell, then we can’t stop you. But I want you to take this, just in case there’s an emergency or… something. I’m literally _asking_ you to take this or else I’m going to be worrying about you for some reason and I can’t have that on my conscience.”

 

He held out a _very_ expensive looking phone to Peter, who took it from his hands to inspect it. Close up, he could see the signature ‘SI’ logo from Stark Industries, meaning that _yes,_ it was ridiculously expensive. However, before Peter could refuse Tony held up a hand. 

 

“Don’t you dare refuse. Like I said, I’m quite literally telling you to take it. It has our contacts in it, just in case there’s an emergency and also an extremely long-lasting battery life. If it runs out then you can come back here, alright? Seriously just take it, kiddo. It’s not like I don’t own the company that makes them.”  

 

Sighing, Peter kept hold of the phone. “Okay, if you insist, I’ll keep it. Thank you, Mr. Stark.” 

 

Then, for the last time, Peter turned to look at everyone.  

 

Steve furrowed his eyebrows and nodded at him, head resting on his fists.

Natasha simply raised an eyebrow, almost as though she knew this wasn’t actually goodbye.

Bruce smiled sadly at him and gave a small wave.

Vision looked – well, he honestly just looked blank.

Sam nodded and smiled.

Rhodey gave a big smile, one that Peter found impossible not to smile back to.

Clint winked and saluted before going back to eating his – well actually it was Rhodey’s breakfast.

Wanda looked near to tears as she looked up at Peter. 

 

For some damn reason, Peter almost wanted to sit back down and accept Tony’s offer. However, he knew that he couldn’t, so instead waved to everyone.  

 

“Bye guys, bye Mr. Stark.” 

 

“See you, kid.” 

 

Then, without another look, Peter took the elevator down to the bottom floor, and after saying goodbye to FRIDAY, he went on his way to return to his old life. Peter knew though that it would never _really_ be the same, not after what had just happened. Walking down the street, Peter ran into a dark alleyway and put his suit and webshooters on, before swinging from lamppost to lamppost in the direction of Queens. He found he went much faster than he used to, probably due to the fact he was full of food and good rest.  

 

“Oh, how I’ve missed you, Spidey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im BACK!!! I am SO sorry for not updating in so long, especially considering I l i t e r a l l y promised y'all I would update the week after my last. clearly im not good at keeping promises lmao
> 
> so much has happened in my life! its been insane and honestly I've had quite literally no time to update. but now I kinda do! and my writers block is completely gone, if anything I feel more motivated to write than ever before. 
> 
> that being said, I really don't know if anything will change, so I will not promise a new chapter soon but I am pretty sure there will be one in the next week or so ;) 
> 
> hope you enjoyed! as always, thank you for being so damn patient with me and flooding me with so many lovely comments. your'e seriously all the best. 
> 
> also - this chapter is spaced really weird imo. I couldn't get it right but oh well.
> 
> bye!


	11. we'll take on the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so dumb. i've literally spent the entire weekend writing chapters for this fic, even though I have a 2000 word essay due for college tomorrow - one which I haven't started, by the way. 
> 
> oh well. enjoy!

 

A few hours went by of Peter swinging around Queens, catching up on the number of crimes he missed out on for the past few days. Although he was still slightly upset about rejecting the offer Tony had given him, he actually felt better than ever. For a start, he was full of good food, and even more so rest. This made his healing go back to normal so he was completely – well, if not still seriously underweight and pale – healthy. And the people of Queens seemed to miss him too, so far eleven people had approached him just to say hello – not that he was counting.

 

Still, Peter knew that his good mood would soon be ruined. After all, how positive can one remain when knowing they are going back to life of sleeping on the floor and surviving on scraps?

 

Currently Peter was perched on the edge of a skyscraper, looking over the city, mask off. He thought of everything that had happened in the past few days and just how bizarre it all was. And as much as he felt he should be, Peter couldn’t find it within himself to be mad at the Avengers. Yes, they knew his identity now, but Peter knew they were perhaps the only people on earth that actually understood what having a secret identity meant, and was pretty sure they wouldn’t expose him anytime soon. And as angry as he was before, he also knew that they gave him things which he hadn’t had in over a year; warmth, food, safety, cleanliness, comfort, human interaction. Peter had been deprived of just plain interaction from pretty much everybody for over a year, which was perhaps one of the worst things about his situation. Loneliness is a killer. Especially for the boy who’s all-time favourite thing in the world used to be hugs.

 

And he also couldn’t deny that meeting the Avengers fulfilled a long-lived childhood dream of his, so there’s that too.

 

Peter sighed and closed his eyes, savouring what he knew would most likely be the last few moments of content. Then, he nodded his head once in acceptance before putting his mask back on and jumping off the skyscraper. Cold, bitter wind ripped through his entire being, however every single nerve on his body lit up in anticipation. His favourite thing about swinging was the free-fall beforehand. Once nearing the ground, he shot out a web to the nearest lamppost, ready to attach and flip onto the closest building. He smiled to himself, loving every minut-

 

He was falling.

 

And was falling fast.

 

_No. NO. Crap. Shit. Crapshit._

All too soon Peter realised he had run out of web fluid, and was now seconds away from becoming a spider pancake on the streets of Queens. Desperately looking around, Peter saw he was only a few inches away from a bundle of thick trees. He knew they would hurt, but definitely not as bad as solid concrete. He manoeuvred his way to the right, and in a split second was crashing painfully through sharp branches and thick leaves.

 

Peter had no time to brace for impact, instead landing on his side. Immediately he knew that he had fractured – or worse broken – something in his torso, maybe a rib? He was also definitely cut open in several places, thanks to the needle-sharp twigs that had impaled him.

 

“Okay – okay, ow, ow, ow. Okay. Need more web fluid. Noted.” He cringed as he stood up, blinding pain shooting up his chest.

 

_A few hours back in Queens and you’re already back to being a failure._

Stepping away from the trees that just personally attacked him, Peter started making his way to the only place he knew he would be able to make more web fluid; Midtown High. This, of course, was an enormous risk but Peter knew he couldn’t last very long or be very useful without his webs. He could no longer use the scientist’s lab anymore as he had moved away, and there was nowhere else Peter could think of.

 

Sighing, Peter pulled out the phone Tony had given him and checked the time. _11:52am._ Lunch at Midtown started at 12:15 which gave him enough time to get into an empty lab and out again unnoticed as all the students would be in the cafeteria. The thought of seeing Ned made his heart momentarily stop, however he shook the feeling away. _In and out._

 

Peter sprinted for a few minutes until he got to small, dark alleyway he had ditched his bag in. He then swiftly changed into the hoodie and sweatpants he had been in previously (which Tony also insisted he kept) before hiding his suit behind a few loose bricks in the wall. Then he lifted his hood up to cover his face and walked over to Midtown, trying to ignore the burn of his injuries.

 

Peter had never felt so anxious in his life. He hadn’t been to this place since _before._ His heart felt like it was genuinely going to fall out of his chest in fear. He knew he would blend in fine if he kept his head down, but the terror of walking back in a place that symbolised everything he had loved and lost made him doubt himself. Still, Peter knew he needed to make the web-fluid, and he knew he could do it here, just like he used to.

 

He approached the doors of the school, briefly looking around before taking a deep breath and shooting his head down. Then, he pushed the doors open and walked inside.

 

_Congratulations, Pete. This is perhaps the dumbest thing you have ever done, and you have done a multitude of incredibly stupid things._

Peter walked around the corner and was greeted by a hallway packed full of students making their way to the canteen. He held his breath as he made his way through them, praying no one would notice or interrupt him.

 

It was then Peter saw his old locker in a relatively quiet spot in the hallway. Memories of him and Ned ranting about Lego and Star Wars filled his head, and he found himself subconsciously walking towards it. Everything around him blurred as he came to a stop in front of it, the urge of trying his old passcode being nearly overwhelming. Of course, he didn’t do it, but if he closed his eyes, he could pretend that life was how it used to be.

 

“You. Guy with the hoodie on. What are you doing?”

 

Peters eyes snapped open as his stomach dropped. He knew that voice. He knew that voice far better than what he would’ve liked to.

 

MJ.

 

MJ was standing right behind him, and suddenly Peter found himself questioning the point of having super senses if they don’t warn him before these situations.

 

He cleared his throat but didn’t turn around, making sure to deepen his voice before answering.

 

“I am looking for my locker.”

 

_Are you dumb? Why would you say that?_

“You’re looking for your locker. R-ight. Are you new here or something? Because I know for sure that’s not your locker.”

 

_This is why you should’ve gone straight to the lab._

MJ’s voice was just as sarcastic and questioning as Peter remembered it being. He wished so badly to just be able to turn around and talk to her. Ask her how she’s been, how Ned has been. What the decathlon team has been up to, if they are still the same or if there are any new members. He missed everyone so much – besides Flash of course but still.

 

“Oh, yes you are right. It’s not. I’ll just be on my way.”

 

Peter started to rush away, his heart racing.

 

“Wait! I mean… you just – you kinda sound like someone I used to know. I mean I know you’re not him because – whatever. Who are you?”

 

Then, for the first time ever, Peter heard MJ’s voice crack. It didn’t sound cold, or snarky, or rude. It sounded almost pleading, desperate.

 

_Go. Don’t turn around. Go now._

And Peter listened. Without a look, without another second to waste, Peter hurried away. Everything passed in a blur, only stopping when he got to his old biology class’ lab on the 3rdfloor. He listened in to double check it was empty, and sure enough it was.

 

He stepped into the room, making sure to shut the door behind him, and finally allowed himself to just breathe. He closed his eyes as he leaned on the door, giving his heart time to slow down. MJ was _so_ close to him. Close enough to touch. His heart ached.

 

But there wasn’t time to waste thinking about that. So instead, Peter went into the storage closet – to make sure he was away from any security cameras – and got to working on making new web-fluid, remembering the formula perfectly. Memories of experimenting with the school chemicals under his desk clouded his brain. He would get so excited whenever he managed to improve the formula, spending days testing out the different strengths and qualities. Life was so simple back then.

 

He made 12 vials of the fluid – all whilst feeling immense guilt for stealing the school’s equipment – and shoved them in his pockets. He knew he didn’t have much time left, so started cleaning everything up and making sure he left nothing behind. Then, once he was sure he had everything, Peter walked out of the storage closet and stood in front of the classroom. He allowed himself to just look at everything. Nothing had changed, every single detail was the exact same as it was a year ago. Peter spotted an old picture on the wall of the decathlon team celebrating a win; he remembered that day, everything was perfect. May had ordered pizza, instead of the usual Thai, for him and Ned as a way to celebrate the victory. They spent all night watching the entire Star Wars series and eventually fell asleep at four in the morning.

 

Peter smiled at the memory.

 

“MJ we are gonna get in so much trouble for being here! I don’t even know why you dragged me with you – oh hi dude, sorry for barging in here!”

 

Peter – instinctively and incredibly stupidly – turned around to face the voice, a millisecond before realising it was too late.

 

Because standing there in front of him was none other than MJ.

 

And beside her, now looking as though he had literally seen a ghost, was Peter’s best friend in the entire world.

 

 

 

“Peter?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DUN DUN DUN


	12. and just say you're hurt

“Peter?”

 

Peter’s heart stopped. Literally, he stopped breathing for a solid five seconds as he stared at the two people standing in front of him. Clearly his brain had went into some sort of shock, as it somehow thought that standing still would make him invisible. Of course, this didn’t work, that wasn’t one of his superpowers.

 

“Peter?”

 

Ned repeated himself, seemingly in a state of shock himself. He had went pale, eyes watering more as each silent, tense moment passed. Even MJ looked an array of emotions herself - shock, sadness, anger.

 

_Get out. Get out. Run! If you run now they can’t catch up to you!_

 

Now, Peter listened to the voice in his head screaming at him to run, really he did. His body however, didn’t get the message. It was as if it had went into a state of paralysis, completely betraying everything his mind was telling it.

 

Ned slowly started approaching Peter, MJ staying frozen on the spot further back watching the two. Peter could suddenly hear everything as though it were full volume - all three of their racing heartbeats, Ned’s rushed breaths, each slow footstep moving towards him. Peter knew it was too late to make a run for it now as Ned was so close to him that Peter could see his own reflection in his watery eyes.

 

“Peter,” desperation and pain filled Ned’s voice, “say something, _please say something.”_

 

“I-,” Peter started, voice already cracking. He quickly closed his eyes and swallowed down the ginormous lump in his throat, now fully coming to the realisation he had to talk to Ned, “h-hey Ned.”

 

That done it. Hearing Peter speak completely broke down any sort of wall Ned had been holding up, and instantly he pulled Peter into a bone-crushing hug, sobbing into his shoulder.

 

“How are you? I- We- I thought you were gone, Peter I thought you were dead, I- I lost you! Where have you been how are you alive?”

 

Once pulled into the embrace, Peter immediately tensed under his best friends grip. He hated himself for it, but it was his body’s natural reaction to any sort of touch now. Ned took no notice however, and continued crying different questions into his shoulder. Peter felt a stare on him and looked up to find MJ’s eyes on him, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought. Her gaze almost felt like it was going _through_ him, and suddenly he felt much more vulnerable than he wanted to be.

 

Eventually, after what felt like an hour of Peter’s shoulder getting increasingly soaked from Ned’s tears, the bell rang. Had Ned not been wrapped around him, Peter would’ve literally jumped on to the ceiling from fright.

 

Ned pulled away, eyes wide in fear, “You’re coming with me - and you MJ - you’re both coming with me.” Then, Ned started swiftly walking away out the classroom. Peter knew he had a chance to run then, but he was way in too deep now and MJ was right on his heels.

 

They both followed Ned through crowds of hurrying teenagers and soon Peter knew where they were heading - the decathlon practise room. Peter’s eyes burned at the memories that ripped through his brain, however he pushed the tears back and focused on the potential disaster that he was facing with at the moment.

 

The three walked in, MJ locking the door behind her. Peter knew that they had plenty of safe time in here as the classroom was barely used for anything but practise, and if things were still the same as last year, practise started at 4pm - 3 hours away.

 

And then they were back in the same situation they were minutes ago. Ned and MJ staring at Peter, clearly now expecting answers.

 

MJ crossed her arms as she narrowed her eyes, “Peter. Do you know how much you’ve put this boy through the past year?”

 

Guilt soared through Peters’ entire being as he watched Ned’s eyes widen at MJ’s statement.

 

“MJ, stop! That’s not - that’s not important.”

 

She raised her eyebrow at him. “Not important, huh? You cried _everyday,_ Ned. You spent _hours_ looking for him. You started failing all your classes and refused to talk to anyone. You were a completely different person, for _months._ And now that you’re semi back to normal, he’s just appeared back out of nowhere? _That_ _is important.”_

 

Ned’s face turned a deeper shade of red at every word MJ said.

 

_You hurt him so bad._

 

Peter had been through a lot. More than a lot, maybe. But he had never felt so much guilt and shame as he did in that moment, listening to everything Ned had become because of his own selfish needs.

 

Ned opened his mouth to retaliate but Peter stopped him before he could.

 

“No Ned, she’s - she’s right,” both their eyebrows shot up at this, “I- I cant even,” Peter stopped mid-sentence as his voice cracked. He didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell them the truth. What could he say that answers any of their questions?

 

Suddenly Peter’s breath quickened, heart tripling in speed as tears threatened to spill out of his eyes. He knew what was happening, it happened all too often. However this was probably the worst time to have a panic attack. He fell to the floor.

 

Ned noticed his increasingly panicking state and rushed towards him.

 

“Peter what’s wrong? What - what did I say? Oh my god you’re having a panic attack!”

 

Peter scrunched his eyes closed trying to slow his heart down but failing, bad.

 

“Hey, Parker. Look at me.”

 

MJ’s calm voice immediately snapped his attention to hers as he looked into her eyes. She was kneeling down beside him but keeping her distance.

 

“Were in the decathlon practise room. You’re with me, MJ, and Ned. You’re safe. You’re fine. Breathe with me okay? Can I touch you?”

 

Peter didn’t know what she was doing, however it was working. He nodded his head - relieved that she had asked before hand - and continued to lock his eyes onto her focused ones.

 

She nodded her head before carefully and gently picking up his hand, placing it on her own chest.

 

“Breathe with me. See? Nice and slow. In and out. You’re safe. You’re okay.”

 

Slowly, Peter matched his breath to hers. He had never had anyone help him with panic attacks - not like this. May never witnessed them first hand and Ned always just tried to distract him. Nobody had ever actually took the time to get him _through_ them.

 

Soon enough Peter was back to normal - well, he wasn’t hyperventilating anymore. MJ stood up and sat down in a nearby chair as Peter slowly got to his feet.

Nobody said anything for minutes.

 

“What happened to you dude?” Ned’s voice sounded wrecked as he seemed to finally take in Peter’s state.

 

Peter looked to his best friend. The boy he grew up with. The boy he shared so many memories with. The boy that meant so much to him.

 

“May’s dead.”

 

Both Ned and MJ’s quiet gasps seemed to echo around the room. Then, Peter once again closed his eyes and sunk the floor, sobbing into his hands. It was the first time he’d actually said it out loud - and the first time he’d properly cried about it.

 

His barriers were down.

 

_Dangerous. Get up. You can’t let them see you so weak. So pathetic. Get up._

 

However Peter then felt two pairs of arms embrace him as he cried, one crying with him and the other silently offering support. And for the first time in over a year, Peter didn’t fight the touch. He didn’t flinch. He didn’t run. Instead, the voice in his head was drowned out as he sobbed loudly into the bodies of people who actually cared about him.

 

For the first time in a long time, Peter felt safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god. sorry for the hiatus but I've been pretty dang busy with college. however I got a new laptop and its made me feel super motivated to write more!
> 
> also -
> 
> ENDGAME? I saw it yesterday and I - I am now a broken shell of a human being. so, thanks for that marvel.
> 
> I will not be posting any spoilers and if I see any in the comments they will be deleted. its not fair to those who haven't seen it yet. 
> 
> thanks for reading lovelies! I think this chapter was a bit nicer than my usual. it was shorter too, however short and sweet. hope y'all enjoyed. next chapter out soon! I love you all!


	13. and we'll face the worst

It seemed like an entire life time had passed like that. Just Peter surrounded by his two very best friends, huddled together on the floor. Providing the overwhelming comfort of home, of friendship, of familiarity. Something Peter hadn’t felt in a long, _long_ time.

But sadly they couldn’t sit like that forever. Peter knew this. So as he calmed his breathing down, turned his sobs into mere sighs, and nodded his head once to show that he was okay, Ned and MJ stood back up. With anxiety coursing through his stomach, Peter mirrored their action.

Now that he was fully aware that, yes, Ned and MJ were standing in front of him, and, no, he wasn’t on the verge of yet another breakdown, Peter finally allowed himself to look at his friends properly.

They… they both looked the same. Other than a few inches on their height, they both looked the exact same as what they did last year, before any of this had happened. It occurred to Peter then that he had changed so much since that time - both physically and mentally. He, of course, knew that expecting his best friends to look completely different was a bit of a stretch, however seeing that they hadn’t changed at all seemed to be worse than if they had. It proved to him that they were just living their normal lives, figuring out school, with homes and families and everything that Peter had ripped away from him.

It left an unwanted, bitter taste in his mouth. He swallowed it down.

Nobody really knew when and if they should talk. They all just stood there, looking at each other, unknowing of what to do or say. What was there to say? What could be said that would make this situation any less bizarre or awkward?

Instead of doing his usual and freezing up, waiting for somebody else to break the tension, he decided to initiate the… conversation. He owed it to them to not sit in silence.

“I- I don’t even know what to say,” Ned furrowed his eyebrows slightly at this, “I know this is crazy. I’ve been… gone for nearly a year now I think and I know you guys must be so confused right now…” Peter started, avoiding all eye contact and rather looking at his hands.

“There isn’t really much I can say, as awful as that sounds. Not because I don’t want to tell you but more because I don’t know how to… to put it in words, I guess. So much has happened over the last 12 months and I know that you guys deserve to know why I suddenly disappeared but…” Peter trailed off, not knowing how to finish that sentence. He sighed in frustration and ran his hands through his hair, trying to figure out what he could say that could possibly explain anything.

Suddenly Ned spoke up, his face an entire array of emotions.

“Peter you’re not making any sense. You can’t just… walk in here looking as if you’ve been hit by a car,” _rude_ , “and tell us that after a year of being missing that there isn’t much you can say? You - you just prance in here, roaming around the science classroom - which by the way, why?- and _clearly_ weren’t planning to actually come see us, and then we confront you and you - tell us…” Peter didn’t have to hear May’s name to know he was talking about her.

There was so many questions Peter knew that they would ask, yet he wouldn’t be able to answer. He couldn’t tell them about being homeless, or about why they haven’t ever ran into him, or how he’s actually Spider-Man, or about the Avengers or anything. But at the same time, he couldn’t lie to them.

“Leeds is right,” MJ cut in, “you have a lot to explain to us. Because right now I think we’re still in shock - but once that wears off? You have two friends that you abandoned with no explanation for a year wanting answers.”

Peter nodded solemnly. As much as he missed the two, Peter just wanted to get away from them both. He quickly looked over at the clock, realising how much time they’d spent in the practise room.

“Don’t you guys have class?”

Obviously, that was the wrong thing to ask.

Ned scoffed. “Class? We see you for the first time in a year - a year which by the way, was spent worrying and searching to the ends of the earth for you - and you are basically asking for us to leave?”

Something flashed in Ned’s eyes then, something that Peter only witnessed a few times but never aimed at him. Anger. Pure anger.

“You do realise what a friend is, right? Because I don’t think you do, Peter. I thought we were best friends,” Peter could feel his heart ripping apart there and then, “I thought we told each other everything. I thought that not only were you my best friend, but I thought I was yours.”

“Ned you are my - ”

“No Peter, I don’t think I am. A best friend wouldn’t suddenly leave and just not return. No messages, no calls, no explanation. You were just gone. You quite literally disappeared. Do you know how that affected me? Did you even think about what you leaving would do to me? I don’t think you did. Or maybe you did, but just didn’t care. I don’t know what is worse. I was a _mess_ , Peter. My mom had to get me therapy because I was pretty sure that my life-long best friend was dead in a ditch somewhere. I got angry at everything, everyone, because why was nobody looking for you? So I looked for you. Every single day before school and every night after. I’d stay out for hours in the dark, praying I’d find even just a clue that you were alive. People thought I was crazy.”

He stopped to look Peter dead in the eyes.

“And then just as I’m slowly moving past this, slowly recovering and dealing with the fact that you were gone for good and that there was pretty much nothing I could do, you just - show up. Back in school, except now you don’t even look like the Peter I knew. So, you are not going to sit here and tell us that there isn't much you can say to us. Because you know what? When I first saw you I thought I had imagined you. I felt so happy, so confused, so terrified that you weren’t real. But now? You don’t even look like you are happy to see me. You came to the school and didn’t even try to find me,” suddenly Ned’s voice cracked, anger seeming to be replaced with heartbreak, “do you even care that we’re here? Were you just gonna leave again?”

Peter felt as though Ned had literally ripped his heart out of his chest. He was right, of course, Everything Ned was saying to him, Peter deserved to hear. But actually hearing how much he had hurt his best friend made him want to cry, scream, beg for forgiveness.

MJ stood quietly, watching Peter closely as she had always done in the past. Then, softly, “Peter, you have to tell us what’s going on.”

Then, with a deep breath and tears in his eyes, he looked back to his friends.

“Like I said, May died. But she didn’t just… die, she got murdered. In the same way Ben did,” he stopped himself from releasing a sob and continued, “and my world fell apart. I was on the phone to her, arguing to her when… it happened. I - I didn’t know what to do. What to say or where to go. So I just - left. I couldn’t bear to tell either of you because that means I’d have to face what had actually happened. I couldn’t bear to think about it let alone talk about it. And I know thats selfish and stupid and completely reckless. I know that. But what - I mean how am I going to face that every single person in my family was dead? I couldn’t. I couldn’t… _do that_. I had to get out. So I left. And didn’t return. I wanted to. So badly. I desperately craved to see you guys. Especially you, Ned. But I’m gonna be honest and tell you that I plummeted in every single sense of the word. Mentally, physically, everything. I didn’t allow myself to come and see you guys because I was so terrified and so certain that something would happen to you if I did. And I know that I am such an asshole for it. I know that I was only thinking about myself. And I cant tell you how sorry I am or how much I hate myself for it. I ached everyday to see you.”

He took a breath and looked back into his friends’ faces. Both wore expressions of pain and confusion. Ned’s eyes were filled with tears, his bottom lip quivering. However MJ in particular looked more intense.

“Peter, _where did you go?_ ”

He closed his eyes momentarily before opening them to answer.

“No where. I - I lived on the streets.”

Ned looked even more grief stricken, but MJ instead just raised an eyebrow.

“In Queens?”

“…Yes.”

“And we _never_ ran into you?”

“…Never.”

Then, MJ snapped.

“For _fucks_ sake Peter,” both Peter and Ned winced at the harsh tone of her voice, “ _stop lying to us_. Do you think we are stupid? Look, I entirely believe everything you’ve just told us, but it is blatantly obvious you are hiding something else considering there is no way that everybody from school has somehow managed to avoid you living on the streets 24/7. You are really saying you’ve survived on the streets for a year? But somehow manage to show up here with clean clothes and clean hair yet still looking as though you’ve been beat up? I know that you were hiding something long before all this happened, but I didn’t care all that much then. This however? This is an entirely different situation and I think that you owe it to us to be truthful. What are you hiding, Peter?”

Aaaand, there it is. He knew that one of them would surely call him out, but he never thought it would be so direct and to the point.

What was he supposed to say? Should he tell them?

Peter knew that they would keep his secret, of course they would, and he also knew it would answer so many of their questions, but at the same time he felt as though he was exposing a part of himself that he had grown so protective of. He was still trying to accept the fact that the Avengers knew who he was, never mind two more people.

He sighed, looking at the heartbroken and confused face of Ned Leeds - his best friend in the entire world, the boy who had quite literally talked him off ledges, who had calmed him down too many times, who was a never fading source of happiness for Peter.

And MJ, a girl who hid in the shadows, silently observing those around her and learning new things every moment. A girl who, even in her own weird way, showed just how much she cared for Peter - outsmarting Flash whenever he’d insult Peter, silently passing him her lunch whenever she knew he hadn’t ate, messaging him at stupid times to make sure he would get some sleep. Small but significant things MJ would do, proving she was indeed a best friend to Peter.

They deserved to know.

Using his senses to fully check they were alone, Peter took a deep breath and prepared for the mountain of disbelieving questions that would no doubt be thrown his way.

“I’m Spider-Man.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI HELLO FRIENDS
> 
> I don't even know how long its been since I last updated, but let me tell you my life has been CRAZY. I got the worst news I could've possibly imagined last month and have been trying to process as well as continue on with my life facing what has happened. So, I've not been in the best place. But it's summer now, so I finally found time to sit down and write this lil filler chapter in to tell you guys that, no, I have not abandoned this fic. I still love it and still very much plan to continue the entire thing - whatever it takes. ;)
> 
> ALSO - FAR FROM HOME? 10/10 GO WATCH IT RIGHT NOW
> 
> That's all I'm saying about it - once again, same drill with endgame, please don't comment any spoilers as they will be deleted. It's not fair to those who haven't seen it yet. 
> 
> Oh and also - if it isn't obvious, this fic is not following ANY of the mcu storylines because my heart refuses to accept what has actually happened in the movies, so, this is my version of the mcu, thank you very much.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed this little chapter! Love you all, I've missed you!


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